Long Lost
by Life imitated art
Summary: Paul Levesque paints, Stephanie inspires. Together they are whole, until one day they are separated, breaking him of his soul. Five years later, she is not his. Can she be again? Re-write of the story, I feel this time around it will be much better.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

PPOV

Present Day

Have you ever just had one of those moments where time seems to stand still and you look at your surroundings and wonder how in the hell you got there?

I just had one.

I'm twenty-four and somewhat happy in my career and life in general. Sure, it wasn't the field I expected to go in to, but I'm doing okay for myself. I have nice friends and a small but decent apartment, but there was always one thing that eluded me- I never truly fell in love.

I take that back.

I never fell in love _again._

There was the one that got away. Stephanie Marie McMahon to be more precise, though she never let anyone call her that; not even me. For six mind-blowing months we were inseparable. She was my sun and my moon; my life and my art revolved around her.

My art. It no longer existed.

I thought nothing could be worse than the months that followed her leaving, but I was wrong. I was basically a shell of my former self and my sister even tried to stage an intervention, but it's hard to do when it's just her and her boyfriend, now husband, Gordon there.

I was stubborn, heartbroken and hard to deal with. I still can't fathom why she didn't just have me committed to an asylum. Instead, she dealt with my shit and helped me put back the pieces of my life. I was finally moving in the right direction.

However, things have been made a hundred times worse, because I was forced to sit in a fancy ass restaurant with my family, and my cousin, Randy, brought his fiancée to dinner with us. I hate family dinners, especially ones that include Randy. Thankfully they have been few and far between until now. It seems that Randy and his fiancée are moving to Greenwich in a few and were in town to scope out apartments to move into.

Usually this wouldn't affect me, and I would just nod my head and strike up some casual conversation with Randy about his favorite baseball team, because lord knows he never really cared to talk about anything that interested me. However this time, I'm slack-jawed and silent because his fiancée is none other than Stephanie Marie McMahon.

The girl who broke my heart.

And she wouldn't even make eye contact with me. How fucked up is that?

A\N: I had this story before; it was somewhat the same concept. This time around it is not going to be based in wrestling.

I know this chapter is really short but it's just the start. I have chapter 2 done, if I have a lot of reviews I will post it tomorrow.

So please review! Especially to those who I know read it but only review every once in a blue moon.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

SPOV

October 2006

The steps back to my apartment were heavy and full of regret. Maybe if I had just done the job properly or given my manager, a heavy set guy named John, a blowjob like he had asked so nicely, I would still have my job.

However, I hated this job – the hours, the location, and the constant sexual harassment all sucked. The only thing I liked was the steady paycheck, and even that was lacking most days because I didn't get the hours that some of the other girls got because I wasn't very good and I wouldn't suck my boss's cock. I tried to think positive; there would be other jobs for more money, but there weren't many people who wanted to hire a twenty-four year old who wasn't exactly in a hurry to get her degree.

I felt like a perpetual student. I had started fresh out of high school and got really great grades for my freshman year. Then some family issues kept me from returning my second year. Money was tight and I found my mother had been cheating on my father repeatedly for years with the same rich asshole that lived in Connecticut.

Another thing that sucked – my parents' divorce.

My mother moved to Chicago with the rich jackass and I cut off virtually all contact with her. She still called and emailed every so often, but I rarely answered the phone or called back. Sometimes if I was really desperate for her money – or Marcus's money, technically.

I finally managed to head back to school but I took a lighter course load and have been dragging out actually graduating. I am a few credits shy and, though I should be good to graduate in the spring, I like going to school. It gives my life meaning. If someone asks what I do, I am a student. In five months, I'm not sure I can say the same. 'So Steph, you finally graduated…what are you going to so?' people would ask me after I toss my cap into the air with the other eager graduated. I could already see myself simply shrugging my shoulders. After all, what does one do with a degree in poetry?

I climbed the steps into my small apartment building, avoiding the landlords'' office at all costs. My neighbor, who I guess would be my best friend Kate, stood in her hallway unlocking her door,

"McMahon…what's going on? Shouldn't you be at work?"

"It was an easy day," I lied easily as Kate rolled her eyes.

"Bullshit, it's the lunch rush. Everyone within a three-mile radius visits the diner. Come on…what's the deal?"

"John let me go cause I wouldn't blow him."

"No shit," Kate squealed as I saw her face turn from content to angry in a flash. "Want me to send Garrett over there to beat the shit out of him?"

"Tempting, really," I replied as I pushed my door open and Kate didn't bother to go into her place, choosing to follow me into mine instead. "Let's face it through; I was shit at the job. I messed up orders all the time and constantly fought off the advances of John and half of the businessmen who would wander in. It was pathetic. In hindsight, I'm glad I don't have the job anymore."

Kate kicked my door closed behind us and grabbed a gallon of ice cream from my freezer before taking two spoons from my drawer and pushing me onto the couch. She settled in beside me and handed me a spoon. Together we began to laugh about how horrible I had really been.

"I remember when I dragged Garrett in there for breakfast one day and you completely fucked up his order. He wanted eggs and you gave him pancakes. Plus, you kept bringing us splenda instead of actual sugar. I mean, it pissed me off and were friends, I could only imagine how frustrated regular customers would be."

"The guys always left big tips, with their phone numbers of course, but I never did anything with any of them. If it wasn't for those tips I would have been homeless weeks ago."

"Oh Steph, how bad is it this time?" Kate knew my history better than anyone. We were sort of kindred spirits. Her parents had divorced when she was younger and her dad was now on his fourth wife, while her mother was barely managing through life. It was just a reversal of roles and it had happened more recently for me. Sure, divorce was a lot more common these days, but it didn't make it any better. "Call your mom; you know she will send you some money."

"I just don't want to seal with her. I can't listen to her berate me for losing my job and begin insisting I move to Chicago with her. Do you know how hard it is to listen to her be all excited and shit about her life, when she throw away the life she had with my dad. It was like they were never happy, and just tolerated each other until I moved out ya know?"

"I get it, hon," Kate said supportively as we both reached in the tub for some ice cream and it grew silent between is. Suddenly, Kate grabbed the campus newspaper off the table and tossed it at me. "There are always the job listings in there."

"No one needs tutoring in poetry, Kate," I replied as I pushed the paper away and she proceeded to grab at it again and flip to class fields.

"Okay well you can't be a tutor and I know you don't want or work in a cafeteria, so your options are limited," Kate said before she took another spoonful of ice cream and the began filing about, pointing at the paper, "Here's a good one. 'Art Student requires a nude model for up to five weeks for class assignment. $25 an hour, paid weekly. Contact P Levesque at 205-764-2485.' Steph, you should totally call this guy."

"No way," I replied with a dramatic flourish of my hands, accidently throwing my ice cream covered spoon onto the floor. "I cannot be a nude model."

"If he pays you $25 an hour, and you work four hours a day, while just standing there, you can make like $700 a week if you work every day. Can you imagine? You'd have your rent issue taken care of immediately."

"It's a short term solution, Kate," I replied with a sigh. "What will I do in four weeks after I've been painted naked, which no doubt will be seen by countless people? I will still need to find another job."

"Fine then, save the money you get. Pay off Mike, and then you have a month of rent saved up and you can spend a month looking for a new job, something more like Starbucks?"

"Fuck off with your logic and I can't do Starbucks. We've already determined I can't be a waitress, I think the barista thing would blow, too. Plus, I'd never be able to remember all those drink combinations."

Kate and I spent the next hour trying to come up with more suitable solutions to my problems, but we had nothing promising by the time she had to leave. I made myself some noodles for dinner and as I sat on my couch watching Jeopardy, the paper on my coffee table was mocking me. It was open to the page with the classified ads and Kate had even circled the listing we had joked about in red pen, so it was standing out like a sore thumb. Taunting me.

So, after five minutes of just staring at the paper, I put my bowl down with a clang and dialed the number. I got the machine and left a message.

"Uh…hi. This message is for P. Levesque. My name is Stephanie McMahon and I am responding to the uh…the ad in the paper about the modeling job. You can reach me at 205-768-4295."

When I hung up the phone, I closed my eyes and let out a long breath. God, I hoped he called back, but part of me of me was scared shitless. If he did call back, and he was interested, I would have to get naked in front of him. Hell, it could be a her. P could stand for Pam or Paige. I had no idea who this person was.

What in the fuck was I doing?

I tossed my bowl in the sink and washed it quickly before deciding I needed a bath to calm my nerves. As I soaked in the water, I began to catalogue everything I had to worry about and how important it was that I found a job as soon as possible. I had to remain focused on my classes as much as possible. I had already taken much too long and get this far in my degree, but I couldn't do any of it without it. I needed a job.

My phone rang on the bathroom counter and it was with trepidation that wiped off my hands and grabbed it continuing to soak in the tub as I answered it. "Hello?" I questioned quietly, not recognizing the number on the phone.

"Ye, hello…is this Stephanie?'

"Uh...yeah."

"This is Paul Levesque. You left a message on my machine about the modeling job I had listed in The Daily." Shit, why did it have to be a Paul? Couldn't have been a woman named Pauline or Patricia. "Steph, are you there?"

"Yeah, sorry. You caught me in the bath," I admitted shamelessly as I smacked my hand against my forehead. Fuck me.

"Would you like if I were to call you back?" he asked with a slight groan before clearing his throat.

"No, this is fine," I mumbled as I sat up a bit in the tub and water sloshed over the side.

"Oh, okay," he replied anxiously and I could already picture him blushing on the other side of the phone. "Are you free tomorrow afternoon? I thought we could meet in my studio space and I could see you in my element. See if you would work in my lighting." Huh?

"Oh, yeah sure" I replied, confused.

"If I chose you as my subject, Stephanie, we will be spending a lot of time together in my studio. I want to make sure that you will be comfortable and I will also be able to get what I need for my projects. I know I said this was a four week project for school, but if inspiration strikes me, I may want to use your services longer for non-school related paintings. If that is alright with you."

"Will I get paid for those too?"

"Of course."

"Alright," I said, all I would have to do is stand there in my birthday suit while some guy painted me. How bad could that be? "Can you text me your address and the time you want me to meet you?"

"Of course, Steph, I look forward to meeting you." He replied. I hung up moments later and it was only a minute later that I got the text with his details. I climbed from the bath more nervous than I was when I had climbed into it. Dressed in tiny a towel with my hair dripping down my back, I stood in front of my back, I stood in front of my closet wondering what the hell I should wear to an interview for nude modeling.

I was so fucked.

The next day, I dressed casually in a skirt and loose flowing top, something I could easily get out of for the nude part of the festivities. I even spent extra time in the morning making sure I trimmed in the girly areas, my skin was smooth and I smelled as good as possible. I didn't want anything to go wrong.

When I rang the bell at the non-descript but industrial looking building, my heart was hammering in my chest. I was nervous as fuck and as I looked around I really began to second guess what the hell I was doing here. That was until the door opened and I found myself staring into the deepest brown eyes I had ever seen in my life.

"Are you Stephanie?" He asked simply as I just nodded my head, unable to form any words. Paul motioned for me to come in and then he led me down a small corridor to a service elevator. It was old, rickety and I suddenly found myself wondering if I would make it out of the building alive.

However there was something about Paul that put me to ease. His body language told me he was a bit anxious too, but he was younger than me. He was very built; it did make him look a little more mature. I began to wonder what his age was. His hands were paint stained and his blonde hair pulled back, he was beautiful. With one quick look you could see that this man or this boy even, was filled with passion.

He ushered me into his apartment which was a large open space with a large leather couch and a lot of painting supplies everywhere. There were two easels set up; selves upon shelves of paint, pencils, papers, and canvasses… everything he could need to make a masterpiece. His small kitchen was dirty and there was take-out packages littering the counter. All I really wanted to do was get this over with. I had to get naked and see if Paul was interested, because surely that was this entire 'interview' needed, right?

"Would you like something to drink, Steph? Paul asked me as he made his way into his kitchen.

"Sure," I mumbled back as I noticed a little settee with an easel set up in front of it. There was a ton of natural light coming in from the wall of windows and as Paul was getting drinks, I decided to just get it over with and begin to undress.

"You must be pretty nervous, huh? I have to admit, I've never done this before myself. My sister talked me into it and I will completely understand if you decide you don't want to do this." Paul called out from the kitchen as I folded my clothes and left them on the settee before making my way back towards Paul.

"Holy shit," he cursed dropping the bottle of water he had fetched for me as I stood there with my hands on my hips and my back arched. Okay, I was trying to make my breasts look bigger, but he didn't need to know that.

"Is this alright?" I questioned as I did a little turn and Paul was moving quickly around the room. Grabbing my clothes from the settee and thrusting them at me before covering his eyes with his hand.

"Can you please put your clothes on, Stephanie?" I quirked my eyebrow at him, but noticed that Paul wasn't moving. What the hell?

"I thought this was what you wanted? This is nude modeling right? Surely you don't want to see me with my clothes on, do you?" I had so many, I was so confused.

"Yes. I mean, no."

"No? Okay, this is getting really confusing."

"Okay, I do need a nude model, you are right," he answered tentatively as I began to redress and I could hear a sigh of relief from Paul as he heard me. "I wanted to get to know you as a person, not as a body. I didn't really care if you were skinny or curvaceous. If you had light hair or dark hair. This body isn't the issue for me. I want someone who I can connect with, who I can paint with emotion. Does that make sense?"

"So I am going about this all wrong, huh?"

"Well you certainly are beautiful, but yeah…it's kinda backwards for what I want."

"What do you want to do now?" I questioned as I adjusted my shirt and felt my cheeks heat up. I felt like an idiot for getting naked, when all he really wanted was to get to know me and see if he felt like we would be a good fit. I withheld the urge to smack myself in the head for being a moron. "You can turn around now, Paul."

"Are you still interested in the job?"

"Yeah, but I can't imagine why you would want me," I muttered as Paul grabbed his wallet and keys from his kitchen counter and motioned towards the front door.

"Let's just say I have a good feeling about you, Stephanie. Care to join me?"

"You're not going to take me somewhere, kill me and then dump my body, right?"

Paul chuckled. "Nope. I'm harmless. I just thought of a place where we could go to get to know each other better and where hopefully, you won't feel the need to get undressed." Paul opened the door, I nodded and followed him.

When we walked in the front door of the local museum, Paul's hand was on my lower back, as he ushered me forward. He stopped to pay the fee at the entrance, while flashing some sort of card to the woman. "I'm a member," he said simply as we headed inside and he led me up to level 3, "This is where the modern art is kept, and I'm curious about your opinion on a work."

"Just one?" I question as we stood on the escalator, Paul directly in front of me. I wasn't sure how I felt about Paul yet. Sure if was sexy as hell, although clearly younger than me. But he was also very free and different.

As we walked through the third level, it was compelling to see how happy and in his element he seemed, I was sure I felt like he did when I was encored in one of my favorite books of poetry. Paul's smiled practically reached his eyes as we stopped in front of a fairly large canvas mounted alone on a bare white wall and he held out his hand.

"I'm assuming this is it?"

"You are right. Now what do you think about when you look at this picture? Don't over think it; just tell me what first comes to mind."

I stared at the work; a dark piece compromised of splattered paints in black, silver, orange, blues and white. "Are those stones on there?" I questioned as Paul nodded slowly.

"It reminds me of poetry. Instead of combination of words flowing together to evoke an emotion or create an image, you have splattered paint and rocks doing the same thing. The painting makes me sad, if I am being honest, I think it is too dark."

"It's called 'Sky Change'. It's one of my favorites."

"Why?"

"Because it reminds me of change."

For the next two hours, Paul gave me a personal tour of the museum, asking my opinion on every painting, sculpture, and abstract work we paused at. He never once said if I was right, he just simply nodded his head.

Finally, as the day drew to a close, I found myself growing impatient. "Paul?

"Yeah?"

"We've been at this for a while, and I have been enjoying it and spending time with you, I have to ask…did I get the job?"

"You most definitely got the job, Stephanie."

*Sorry if there are mistakes, but I didn't have time to go over this. I really enjoy writing this so please tell me what you think and review.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

PPOV

Present Day-(August 2011)

"So Randy…. When do you officially transfer to the Boston office," my mother, Patricia, asked politely as I motioned to the waitress to bring me another drink. Yes, this evening undoubtly appeared like it would require as many drink as I could handle, which wouldn't be that much seeing as I was not usually a big drinker to begin with. Well, not anymore.

"I'm due to transfer at the end of the summer, but we figured we should get a jump on the move and everything. We want to make our transition as smooth as possible." My mother nodded eagerly in response to Randy's rigid comments, but then I watched her eye Steph, who remained strangely silent. During my time with Steph, she never had the opportunity to meet my parents, though I had been sure that my mother would have adored her. Hell, she probably will still adore her; it just won't be in the capacity of my girlfriend.

Though things were good, for the most part, between Steph and me during our relationship, there was just never a good time to meet the others parents. We dated over Christmas, but Steph went to be with her father and I was with my parents at the time. Her father, Vince, didn't venture to the city too much and my parents were always busy or traveling, it just never happened. It wasn't that I didn't want her to meet my parents, or to meet hers. We had even tried, but nothing came of it all.

Of course, I never thought in my wildest dreams that Steph would be sitting here at dinner with us, let alone as the fiancée of my pompous cousin.

How in the hell had that happened? They were so drastically different and Randy was just such…an asshole. He was not Steph's type at all, but it was clear as I sat there watching her intently, that she wasn't the person I had known several years ago. Had I known the real Steph or was this her? I had no idea.

"Well, you know if I can be of help, I will," my mother offered sweetly as I cringed. Patricia sold real estate, m and she did very well considering the economy, but helping Randy meant spending time with Steph, and the prospect made me green with envy. I can always give you guy a few listings in the neighborhoods that you are interested in and we can go from there."

Steph looked to Randy for a response, even though my mother was looking at her the whole time she spoke. All I could think was… what the fuck? I felt like I was in some kind of weird twilight zone. Steph was never really quiet when I was with her. She also never waited for me to give a response to a question she was asked. The entire situation just made me feel strange; I breathed a sigh of relief when the waitress returned with my drink. Lynn shot me a look of disapproval and I waved her off before I took a long pull of my Jake & Coke.

"That would be wonderful, Aunt Patricia." Randy replied, seeming sincere, but I knew him better than that.

As children, Randy was literally the bane of my existence. Thankfully, we didn't spend much time together but when we did I was always eager to get it over with as soon as possible, and Lynn agreed with me.

For as long as I could remember, Randy was always the most competitive and conceited person I had ever met. If we were playing a board game, he would always make up rules so that he would win. Or if we were watching TV, we would always have to watch what he wanted to watch. My mother was always telling us to behave because he was usually our guest and we had to bend Randy's way. It sucked, because Randy was always smug as fuck whenever Lynn and I had to give up whatever it was that we wanted. Even now, Randy looked over confident and I wanted to punch him, though I had never thrown a punch in my life.

"Why don't you give me your details and I can email you our information and what we are looking for, our price range etc…. and we can go from there?"

"Wonderful ideas, Randy," My mother gushed, as our appetizers and salads were served and I noticed Steph took a long sip of her wine. Her silence was seriously disconcerting to me. "So Stephanie, what is it that you do?"

"Stephanie used to be a legal assistant at my firm," Randy chimed in as my mother's eyes flitted between Steph and Randy, her concern mirroring my own. A legal assistant? What happened to her poetry?

"Does Stephanie not speak?" Lynn asked rather rudely, though he was thinking she was being humorous. "Nothing against you Stephanie. You seem like lovely women, quite the opposite of who we expected Randy to end up with for the rest of his life, but you haven't said two words since we sat down at the table thirty minutes ago."

"Lynn," My mother chastised as Lynn held up her hands in frustration.

"Stephanie can speak her mind if she wants to." Randy defended.

"Enough," Steph said simply as I watched while she gripped Randy's forearm tightly. "I can speak for myself just fine, Lynn. However, the questions your mother was asking I didn't have the answers to. Randy, is heading up our move to Boston, not me." Randy nodded at Steph and she gave him a small smile but I was fucking angry.

"Wow, what was that like…three sentences?" Lynn smiled at Steph, but she looked nervous around my sister. Perhaps she was wondering if Lynn knew about her and I, and she was waiting for Lynn to come out and drop her secret. Luckily for Steph, Lynn knew of her, but never seen a picture or painting of her.

"Lynn, you are being rude and it's getting tiring," Randy replied, trying to sound manly but instead sounding like a douche.

"You know what is tiring? Your self-important attitude. You've only had it since the day you were hatched and its getting boring as fuck. I can't understand how someone, anyone, can put up with your shit on a daily basis."

"That's rich coming from you, Lynn." As much as I was thrilled that Lynn was getting her frustrations with Randy her chest, dinner was becoming a little more awkward then I could handle

Especially when I had to watch Steph lean into Randy and whisper something to him that made him laugh and ignores Lynn completely. I was unnerved by her behavior, so I pushed my chair back from the table and stood up.

"Excuse me for a moment," I said gruffly.

Okay, so I probably needed more than a moment, but I had to get the hell away from that table. I headed through the throngs of people in the busy restaurant as though I was on a mission, and the moment I stepped outside, I felt like I could finally breathe.

I turned the corner of the building and rested my back and head against the brick wall as I struggled to get my bearings. It had been far too long since I had seen Steph, but never did I think when I was to see her again she would be so drastically different.

The first few times I dreamed of her I pictured her in my studio, naked and wanting, those dreams turned quickly into vivid nightmares when I came to terms with the fact that she was never coming back. At first in each dream, I would be reaching out to Steph and she would disappear. These dreams gradually turned into images of her running away from me. There was never any talking on her part, just looks of sadness and determination before she disappeared completely from my mind. I haven't dreamed of her in a while, but I could tell that wasn't going to last thanks to Randy.

I fumbled as I reached into my pocket to pull out my cigarette, my only vice these days, besides my newfound drinking habit, a dropped them on the ground with a loud groan. As I bent down to get them, I noticed a shadow cross in front of me and looked up to come face to face with I remorseful looking Steph.

"I didn't know." She whispered under her breath as my eyes grew wide.

"You didn't know what? And he's not here you know, so you can speak your mind."

"I can speak my mind around Randy, too." Steph replied, but I could sense she was hesitant. "He thinks I went to the bathroom, but I just wanted to reassure you that I had no idea that you and Randy were related, let alone that we would be meeting you for dinner tonight."

"He never mentioned his dipshit cousin Paul who had royally fucked up his life in the past few years?" I questioned, coldly.

"Randy had mentioned a cousin named Paul, but it is a common name. Anyways, we lived in Chicago; I never once thought it could be you."

"So you moved to Chicago, huh?"

"Yeah, four years ago." That meant she spent at least a year someone, after she left me before leaving for Chicago. Steph gave me a little information that just raised more questions.

"Does Randy know…?"

"Does he know about our past?" She finished for me, as she shook her head slowly. "Is it wrong to say you look good; more mature?"

"Yes it's wrong. You can't just come in here, engaged to someone else…someone I fucking hate more than anything in this world, and tell me I look good. That's not how this shit happens."

"I'm at a loss for words and completely confused, Paul. I never, in a million years, thought I would see you again. When Randy mentioned moving here I tried to talk him out of it, I really did. He just doesn't listen to reason."

"Well, that must suck for you."

"You look older, but you certainly haven't grown up much. You don't have to act like a child.

"Fuck you," I replied angrily. "You turned from the bright, vibrant women I fell in love with to a fucking bored housewife. You don't get to insult me, Steph. You left _me _for fucks sake; it wasn't the other way around."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's obvious I would have grown to dislike the person you turned into. We would have never made it." I knew it was a blatant lie, but she didn't need to know that.

"Do you still paint?"

"No."

"Did I…"

"Did you ruin me? Would it make a difference if I said yes? If I said I stopped painting the day you left me and it turned my world upside down? What would it change, Steph?"

"Nothing," She said as she bent her head forward seemingly upset. Five years ago I would have titled her chin up and kissed her softly, telling her that everything will be alright…..but now, it was anything but. An unexpected meeting with my past had turned my entire universe on its axis.

"Right…it would change nothing. I don't paint anymore, so lets just leave it at that. Lord knows Randy wouldn't want to hear that you were my muse and inspired my art ….or that I had you before he did."

"I'm not going to tell him and I am begging you not to do it either, please. We will head back to Chicago in a few days and I will do my best to stay away from you once we've moved here, I promise."

My heart lurched, even more so than it did when I first saw her at the table talking intimately with my cousin. "No more promises. You don't keep them very well."

"I'm trying here, Paul, but I have no idea what to do. Seeing you again is…" Steph paused and I noticed her eyes move around again before glancing at her watch. "It was unexpected, but not unwelcome."

With that, Steph walked quickly back into the restaurant, leaving me completely baffled. 'Not unwelcome'? What does that even mean? She's glad she saw me? Thrilled she had a chance to rip my heart out yet again since she's engaged to be married to the person I loathe the most in the entire world?

I hear the hard thud of the door as it closed behind her and I quickly lit my cigarette, my hand shaking the entire time I stood there smoking.

I tossed my spoke to the ground and rubbed it out with my shoe before heading inside. When I got there, I didn't sit. Instead, I reached over and drowned my latest drink before looking towards my mother sullenly, as I threw some random bills on the table. "That's for my drinks. I'm sorry, but I can't stay."

"Paul, it's rude of you to up and leave like this. We're celebrating." My mother exclaimed as I felt the eyes of everyone at the table on me.

"I have nothing to celebrate," I mumbled as Lynn grabbed my arm and looked at me fiercely, asking if I was okay. "I'm fine. I just need to go. I'm sorry mom…everyone."

I didn't look up at Steph or Randy as I made my way from our table and headed outside once again. In the few minutes since I had stepped into the restaurant, it had begun to rain gently outside. I felt a huge sense of relief wash over me. Being within 50 feet, let alone five feet, of Steph was killing me.

On my way back to my apartment, I stopped at the local liquor store and bought various bottles of Jack to keep me company, along with another pack of smokes. The moment I walked in the front door, I grabbed the Jack from the brown paper bag and quickly twisted the top off, taking a big swig of the burning amber liquid as I stalked down the hallway to my bedroom.

I knew exactly what I was looking for and I was clearly glutton for punishment as I pushed open the closet door. I took another pull from the bottle before setting it down on my dresser and then forcing apart all my clothes to see the huge canvas hidden in the back that I was looking for.

I paced nervously outside the door, contemplating whether or not to reach in and grasp my past even more fully than I had been forced to earlier in the evening.

With a few more drinks of liquid courage, and two smokes, I awkwardly pulled the canvas from behind my overloaded piles of shit and propped it up against the wall across my bed. I sat down and just stared at it as I drank more and more of the bottle clutched precariously in my hand.

I could remember with clarity the exact moment I reached for the first glob of paint to start the unfinished work in front of me. Steph had been fast asleep on our settee in the loft, following what could only be described as the most mind blowing and emotional sex of my life. She looked beautiful, with the light coming in from the windows around her as she slept peacefully.

It was at that moment, with my paint-covered brush in my hand that I knew I was in love with her. Hell, I had probably known it subconsciously, from the moment she took off her clothes in the loft when she came over to meet me. It was also the moment that I knew I would _always_ be hopelessly and uncompromisingly in love with Stephanie McMahon.

Just as I finished off the bottle of Jack, and my forth smoke, I heard the front door open; the only person with a key was my sister. "You better have a good excuse for bailing on all of us tonight. Mom is on the warpath and dinner was so fucking awkward after you left. Not that it wasn't already awkward… you know what I mean." Lynn rambled as she peeked her head into my room and glanced nervously between me and the canvas.

"Are you… working?"

"No."

"Then what the hell are you doing..." She walked further into my room and stood beside my bed, glancing at the painting as she sucked in a deep breath. "Oh fuck."

*Please review* ~Nicole


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

SPOV

October 2006

Things were awkward, to say the least. Okay, it was more because of me than it was Paul, but I felt so out of kilter when I was around him. I tried to brush it off and thought I just felt embarrassed from stripping in his loft and catching him off guard, but it was more than that. I could sense it.

With my bag over my shoulder and an unsettled stomach, I pressed the button for his loft and waited anxiously. Within seconds the thick steel door flew open and there stood Paul, paint splattered and completely adorable.

"You are on time," he breathed out slowly, clearly trying to catch his breath.

"I always like to be prompt," I replied, my stomach tumbling again as I followed him through the door and we took the service elevator up to his space. He leaned against the steel grate surrounding us and I couldn't help but notice his eyes surveying me. I felt uncomfortable. "Is everything alright?"

"Just fine," Paul said as he roughly pushed the old elevator door open and then we stepped into his loft. "I hope I didn't make you feel odd. I was just trying to decide how best to pose you for today's session and was trying to survey you."

"So, we are jumping right into it, huh?"

"Well…yeah. Is that okay?"

"Of course. That's why I'm here, after all."

I set my bag down on the couch and then I tensed. What the hell was I supposed to do next? I didn't want to stop and strip right where I stood because that hadn't exactly gone over well the last time I was here, but when I looked at Paul, he was just leaning against his kitchen island with a grin on his face.

"I've set up a changing area behind the screen over there for you," he explained as he pointed to a lovely Japanese style tri-fold screen on the far screen on the far side of the room. "There's also a robe for you. Get dressed and put on the robe, the come back to me. I'm going to get everything ready to go."

I nodded slowly and followed his instructions to the point. I needed the money and this would probably be the easiest money I will ever make. After all, it's not like it will take a great deal of effort to sit there, right?

As I started to undress, I noticed a small chair with a silk robe sitting on top of it. Paul had done his work to try and make me feel comfortable. Once I was nude and reached for the robe, I noticed it was indecently short. I mean one bend of the waist and he would see everything.

_Oh, for Christ's sake Steph, he's painting you in the nude. He's gonna see everything anyways._

I rolled my eyes at myself and tied the sash around the waist before stepping out from behind the screen. As I tugged on the hem of the robe—trying to make it seem longer than it was, I stopped and watched Paul for a moment as he moved seamlessly around the room setting up his materials. It really was sight to behold; him in his element. He seemed confident and strong; like a man possessed.

A large canvas was set up to the left of the settee, which had been there last time I visited. There were bottles of paint, brushes and other miscellaneous things scattered on a table beside the canvas. I moved towards the table, curious to see his other tools, but Paul's voice made me stop dead in my tracks.

"Steph, can you get on the settee for me. I need to check the light." I nodded and quietly moved to sit, my knees pressed tightly together, as Paul moved around me. God, he even smelled good, but I couldn't think about that.

I watched Paul set everything up, the muscles in his arms tight and his stance confident, he was definitely sexy. Really, fucking sexy. My body began to react and when it seemed like everything was all set up, Paul came towards me and bent at the knee to put his hands on my upper thighs. God, he was delicious.

"So, for today were gonna take it slow…work up to the full nude." He said soothingly, trying to make me relax, which I appreciated more than anything.

"Whatever you need, you're the boss."

"Let's not think about it like that, okay? As far as I am concerned, you're Steph and I'm Paul and you are posing for me. No boss employee relationship going on here."

"Uh…sure," I answered hesitantly as Paul stood up and asked me to lie against the settee. I rested my elbow against the armrest and tucked my feet under me, like Paul had directed.

I felt his hands move my body slowly, positioning me as he wanted. His hands seemed to set fire to my already tense body and when he seemed to have me in just the right position, I felt his fingers shake nervously as he slid open the top of my robe—revealing just one breast to him.

If anything, it was slow and tortuous foreplay.

"Alright, you look stunning Steph. Let's get to this, shall we? I gave him a gracious smile and let out a small breath, willing my body not to move as Paul set to work, his pencil moving deftly across the canvas as his eyes fitted back and forth between me and his work.

After five minutes of pure silence and tense sexual tension—though that might have been just on my part, Paul decided it was time we get to know one another better.

"So…where you from, Steph?"

"Well, I live near campus, but I am from Connecticut. Nothing of interest there, that's why I moved to Boston."

"That can't be true, you came from there," he replied simply and I couldn't help but blush. "Wait…that blush is perfect. The coloring on your chest is beautiful." Suddenly Paul was working like a madman, mixing colors to create a light pink hue that no doubt was supposed to match my blush.

"I usually blush when people complement me or flirt with me."

"I'll just have to keep doing it then."

"The complements or the flirting?"

"Both, either," Paul replied cryptically, with a slight smirk on his face, as he remained focused on whatever it was he was painting.

As if I needed something else to make Paul attractive to me, seeing him paint and being so focused in his element was a huge turn on. "So…where are you from?"

"Chicago originally, but my family moved out here a few years ago and I decided to stay for college. Boston has a great art program."

"So I've heard."

"Oh really?" Paul asked as he stopped and quirked his eyebrow at me. I didn't really want to tell him since our initial meeting I had googled him and discovered that Paul Levesque was quite the art prodigy.

"What do your parents do? "I asked, quickly changing the topic.

"My dad is a doctor and my mother sells real estate. What about yours?"

"My father runs a local company and my mother…she's not with us anymore."

"I'm sorry," Paul muttered sincerely as I caught a look of sadness n his eyes.

"Oh, she's not dead…she left my dad a few years ago. She's remarried now and we don't spend time together."

"Still it must be hard to have virtually no relationship with your mother, right?"

"Linda Smith gets what she deserves. She cheated on my dad, they divorced and she left him heartbroken. I'm managing to get through life just fine without her."

"Yes, yes you are."

For the next little while, Paul alternated between sketching and painting. I noticed that he only picked up the paintbrush when he was happy with something that he had sketched and he seemed to have a different technique than I expected, but it seemed to suit him. We had continued to talk in brief about our lives – how I had an older brother, and he had an older sister.

When Paul stopped briefly at one point and pulled off his shirt, I couldn't help but gasp and then blush. The mere sight of this beautiful, creative man that was going to be my undoing. I rubbed my thighs together to try and relive the tension and I saw Paul grimace from the corner of my eye.

"You moved."

"It's hard to say still for an hour, you know."

"I know. You have done very well so far. I'm sorry I snapped."

"That was hardly a snap. If you had called me a fucking whore or something, then you would have snapped. You just pointed out a fact."

"I would never…"

"Yeah, I know you wouldn't, so don't worry about it." I replied coolly, trying to ease his anxiety. Paul nodded in response and went back to his work, clearly not bothered too much by my small movement.

As the sky outside began to grow dark, Paul stopped and stared out the window. "Fuck…rain"

"Do we need to stop?"

"Actually," he stated his voice hesitant. "Would you be willing to stay for another hour or two and try a different pose?"

"Can we take a break for a little bit, maybe?" I replied quickly. If I was being honest with myself, I wanted to stay in his presence for as long as I could. I really could use a pee break and stretch my aching body. "If we stop will it ruin what you've been working on this afternoon?"

"Not at all, I'm pretty sure we can get you into that position again next time. It's pretty straightforward." I nodded in reply as I began daydreaming of other positions I wouldn't mind young Paul putting me in. I shook my head briefly and when I looked up, Paul was staring at me in concern. "Everything good? You can move now if you want."

"Oh…thanks," I replied as I moved slowly. Once I was able to stand, I pulled the robe closed around me and I took a glance back at Paul. I couldn't help but notice that he was aroused and he wasn't the only one; fuck.

I walked slowly to the bathroom and once I had closed the door behind me. I rested my hands on the counter and looked into the mirror, wondering to myself what the hell I was doing. He was at least four years younger than me but I couldn't help my attraction to him. Paul is smart, creative, compassionate, funny, and friendly. I would be lying through my teeth if I said I didn't want him to walk into the bathroom and fuck me against his counter at that very moment. However, I didn't particularly want to act on my feelings. I was supposed to be keeping things professional between us; keeping him at arm's length, and I was failing miserably.

I finished up in the bathroom and gave myself a quick pep talk, reminding me that he was paying me for my modeling services and not to fuck me. When I walked out the door, Paul was on the phone and when he saw me he was quick to ask what I wanted on my pizza. He was too cute for words and I would do everything in my power to fight my attraction to him.

Forty minutes later we sat on the floor of his living room, after I had put some clothes back on, eating pizza. When I decided that I had just had enough of wondering about him. "So, how old are you, anyways?" I blurted out as Paul laughed softly and gave me a little smile. He was truly adorable.

"Nineteen."

"Shit," I muttered quietly, but clearly I wasn't quite enough.

"Why?"

"No reason," I replied as I shoved my leftover crust in my mouth to silence myself. I couldn't exactly sit there and say I had thoughts of corrupting him, could I? Regardless of how my body felt around him, I couldn't run the risk of losing the job with him.

"You make me very curious, Steph." Paul swept some hair off my shoulder and I shivered as his fingers brushed against my ear lobe.

"How so?"

"All day you've seemed like you are somewhere else, yet you are focused on the task at hand. I wish I could read minds, and figure out what was going on in yours." No, no you don't, Paul, I thought to myself. "I bet things are interesting in there, huh?"

I nodded my head slowly, my blush coloring my checks again. As Paul reached his arm across me, brushing against my chest, as he reached for my plate. "Are you done?"

"So fucking done," I answered as I took a final sip of my drink and Paul stood and began to clean up from our dinner.

"While I'm cleaning up, why don't you go freshen up and then sit back on the settee? It's just after seven thirty now, so we can fit in a few more hours, unless you need to go home?"

"Nope…don't need to go home. No one is expecting me at home." I spit out stupidly as Paul smile bashfully and then turned his back to continue cleaning up. I stepped into the bathroom and quickly gathered my wits before heading back behind the screen and stripped.

"Paul," I called out as I stuck my head out of the side of the screen, shielding my body.

"Yeah?"

"Do you need me nude or in the robe?"

"Robe."

I let out a small groan of frustration and slipped the robe back on, tying the sash rather loosely. Sure, there was no way I would act on how Paul made me feel. But there was no reason I couldn't flirt a bit, right? It would certainly give me some material to think about when I was home alone and needed a release. Hell I would definitely need a release when I get home tonight.

I walked out from around the screen and sat back down on the settee, waiting nervously. When Paul was done, he came back to where I was sitting and began to turn on some lights above me. "You could get a little hot from the lights, but let me know, alright?"

"Sure thing." I replied with a grin. "Do you know how you want me yet?" Paul let out a small cough before nodding his head.

"Can you sit with your legs apart, robe off your shoulders and elbows on your knees?" I did as he requested and he took a step back while looking at me intently. "Legs wider apart and prop your head up on your hands, kinda you are sad and thinking."

I followed through and I noticed Paul move around me again and reposition the lights. "Would you mind if I took a quick picture with my camera? Then if you aren't here I can work anyways?"

"Awww….you don't want me here?" I asked with a laugh as I felt Paul's hand on my lower back, pulling the robe down further. I shivered again as I felt Paul's breath against my ear.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Very," I replied huskily as he moved around me once more, to stand directly in front of me. He reached his hands under the back of my hair, pulling my hair down to rest along my back and not drape over my breasts. I couldn't help but notice that I was eye level with what was clearly a straining erection in his jeans.

I my mind, I was filled with flashes of me throwing caution to the wind as I undid his pants and sucked on, what would no doubt be a nice fucking cock based on the appearance of his hard on, into my mouth. I pictured myself bobbing up and down on his shaft, teasing and tasting him as his fingers worked their way through my hair, pushing me further onto his length.

I let out a deep moan and when I looked up, Paul was still there, with his hands in my hair. "What on earth are you thinking about, Steph?" he asked his voice quiet yet firm. God, I desperately wanted through with my fantasy. Instead I softly shrugged my shoulders and shivered once more as Paul's fingers moved slowly down my bare arm. "I don't believe you."

I remained silent as Paul moved away and left me wanting. I stayed motionless as Paul took a few quick pictures of me and then moved to grab a new canvas to start his work.

"Are you single, Stephanie?" Paul asked surprising the hell out of me.

"Yeah. If I wasn't do you think my boyfriend would let me pose nude?"

"I suppose not." He smirked. "Why did you agree…to pose nude?"

"Well, first of all I haven't been completely nude yet," I mused as Paul gave me a small laugh. "And secondly, I need the money. I'm really close to losing my apartment and I refuse to take money from my mother, yet again."

"Okay."

"That's all I get is an okay?"

"Yeah. I mean, you've been a great model today and I've enjoyed spending time with you, getting to know you. I don't really care what brought you here, I'm just glad you are, you know?"

"I know." I smiled sweetly at Paul and he went back to working away, asking me random questions about growing up in Connecticut, what were my favorite movies and bands.

It was all very casual and easy until he moved away from the canvas and came towards me, bending at the knees in front of me. "I need to move your sash."

"Alright," I squeaked, somewhat unsettled because I knew that the sash for the robe was currently draped between my legs. This would either end badly or… I didn't even want to think of the possibilities.

I watched, taking a nervous gulp, as Paul moved his hand between my legs and reached for the sash to move it to the side. Unfortunately, or fortunately if you were me, his finger slipped between my wet lips before finding their true goal.

Paul froze. His eyes, clouded with both lust and anxiety, as he stared me down. "I am so sorry, Steph." He stammered as he rose from his spot and headed directly into the bathroom, closing the door with a slam behind him.

"Fuck," I groaned as I sat there, my body trembling with apprehension.

It wasn't his fault my body was having such an intense reaction to his presence. God, how I wanted him to touch me more. To feel his rough fingers inside me, fucking me into oblivion and rubbing against my clit and making me see stars.

But no, I had to scare him away.

I stood up and tentatively made my way to the bathroom, pulling the robe back onto my shoulders and closing sash, as I went. I raised my hand up and went to knock when I heard him curse rather loudly. What in the hell was going on with him?

Without a second thought, I opened the door and found Paul sitting on the edge of his bathtub with his cock in his hand, stroking himself furiously. His eyes were clenched shut and I was literally mesmerized. Not just by action itself, but by the look of sheer pain on his face, it didn't help matters that his cock was nothing short of beautiful. Thick, long and so fucking tempting; I could feel my insides clench as I threw caution to the wind and moved forward, my footfalls clearly catching Paul off guard.

"Oh fuck…" Paul groaned as I stilled his wrist.

"Let me help," I purred at least I prayed it sounded like a seductive purr, as I dropped the robe to the floor and stood bare before him and dropped to my knees.

Paul's eyes grew wide in shock and apprehension as I pulled his hand from his cock. I didn't hesitate as I wrapped my own hand around the base, stroking him firmly and began to suck him into my mouth.

I felt so in control as Paul groaned above me while I wrapped my tongue around his shaft, taking him as far into my mouth as my gag reflex would allow. I lathed and licked at every square inch of him, tasting and loving him like it was the only time we would be together, since it was a distinct possibility. I tried to push the worrisome thought from my mind, knowing that I was risking the money I desperately needed to earn, but Paul was worth the risk.

My hands dropped between his legs to cup his balls and the moment I did, Paul groaned loudly and tensed. Before I had a chance to suck him back into my mouth, he pulled himself from my mouth and was cumming all over my breasts.

"Fuck…" He forced out through clenched teeth as he covered a hand over his eyes, remorse clearly setting in. "We shouldn't have done that."

*Sorry it took this long to get this chapter posted; I have just been having a string a bad days. I would like to thank everyone who reviews this story for every chapter. I also really love the people who review every chapter of every one of my stories, no matter how bad they get. I will try to post another chapter this week, but I am going to try and update "Bullied" first.

Once again please! Please! Please! Review! You guys don't understand how much it means to me. Your reviews help me update faster and make me feel better about my writing.


	5. Chapter 5

**PPOV**

**Present Day - August 2011**

Lynn stayed the night, not that I wanted her too, but she refused to leave me in the condition I was in. In hindsight, I didn't blame her. I would do the exact same thing for her if the situation presented itself. It wouldn't though. Lynn had a good head on her shoulders and I was the emotional train wreck.

"So...Stephanie, huh?" she asked the night before, as she sat beside me and stared at the painting before us. Yeah, it was that obvious. From the pale color of her skin, to the luscious brown of her hair and the small freckle on her shoulder blade; it was clear as day that this was _my_ Steph.

"Steph," I repeated slowly, my voice slurring a little bit as she put his hand on my shoulder, a clear offering of support.

"She's the one...the girl who broke you?"

"I wouldn't say she broke me, but yeah, that's her."

"And you didn't say anything about it tonight?" she asked, confused. "I mean you acted like you didn't even know her." She was right. I practically ignored the woman, but then again, she did the same to me until she found me outside taking a much needed break from the fucked up situation inside the restaurant. I couldn't continue sitting there with fake smile plastered on my face as my mom peppered them with questions about relocating and weddings, while my aunt pressured them about grandchildren. It was too much.

"That's because I don't know her," I snapped bitterly. "That woman sitting with Randy was not the one I knew five years ago." I had no idea what had happened to make Steph act so drastically different, but I wasn't sure I wanted to find out either.

It had been years since we had last seen each other, we obviously didn't end things on a good note, and I didn't think that any of her possible reasons for what happened would change how I felt. She used to be vibrant, exciting and up for anything. Steph was confident in her body and herself, but at dinner it was like I was seeing the polar opposite of the woman I had loved and I despised every minute of it.

"Okay, now I'm fucking confused. You know Stephanie, but not that Stephanie?"

"Yup."

"I'm gonna need a little more than a one word answer if you expect me to help you with this shit, Paul." Lynn was trying her best to maintain some sense of calm, but I could tell I was frustrating the fuck out of her. She was no longer used to my emotional breakdowns, which were basically a daily occurrence after Steph disappeared. I still couldn't fathom how Lynn put up with me back then; I wouldn't have been able to be as strong as she was.

However, regardless of how she felt or what she needed from me, I was the one who was shattered and confused. I needed time to think everything through before I talked to Lynn. After all, she was the one who kept me from going over the deep end all those years ago when Steph left, so she deserved some sort of explanation, didn't she?

"Tomorrow," I mumbled as I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes, letting the booze work its way through my system to numb the pain I felt.

Lynn decided that the explanation could wait and she left Advil and water on my bedside table before he wandered into the living room to fall asleep on my couch.

The next morning when I woke up, I found Lynn in the kitchen brewing a pot of coffee as she spoke to her wife, Gordon, on the phone. I took a step forward, planning to interrupt her, but I was frozen. Though I knew it was wrong, I couldn't bring myself to stop from eavesdropping on their conversation.

"I know, Gordon...yeah, I know. Listen, he needs me and I need to stay here for him." Lynn paused and reached for a mug from the cupboard, with her phone perched precariously between her shoulder and ear. No doubt she was listening to her husband explain something on the other end of the phone since her break was so long. I wished I could have heard what he was saying, but I felt bad enough hearing what I did. "I think she was the one who...yeah, the one who fucked him up. I couldn't exactly make sense of everything from his drunken ramblings last night, but when I got here he was staring at a painting of her...yeah, I'm pretty sure it was her. Regardless of what Paul wants, I'm going to do my best to help him. I can't let her fuck with him again."

I let out a small sigh and made my way to bathroom, deciding that I had heard enough of my sister's well intentioned ramblings. I knew she was right and that I couldn't let Steph affect me the way she once had, but I wasn't sure if I was capable of staying away from her, though I would try my best. I couldn't revert back to the person who I was when she left. It would destroy everything I had worked so hard to rebuild.

Once I came out of the bathroom, I found Lynn perched at my dining room table with my laptop while reading news online. She looked up and noticed me briefly before turning back to the screen and taking a sip from her mug. "I made some coffee."

"Okay," I mumbled, as my head pounded like a gong from my hangover, and I moved around the kitchen to fix myself a mug. I knew I shouldn't have drunk so much the night before, but it was too late to do anything about that. I sat on the couch and stared out the window, trying to ignore the millions of thoughts overwhelming my mind, as I felt the cushions of the couch depress beside me.

"We need to talk about it. I hope you're ready."

"No, not really," I replied sullenly as I heard Lynn groan in annoyance.

Lynn really should have gone into psychology instead of architecture, especially after spending so much time knocking sense into my depressed ass as those years ago. Sure, I wasn't really thriving in my life, but I was surviving, which is a big step up from how I was doing when Steph left years earlier. Lynn had been my rock, my only support system, and really pulled me back together. I sensed the fear in her voice that the reappearance of Steph would lead to my downfall again. I wished I could have reassured him that she wouldn't break me, but I couldn't.

"Try."

"What do you want to know?" I replied as I watched Lynn shrug her shoulders.

"Whatever you think you can tell me."

"Yes...it's her, alright? I know you are dying to know, right?"

"Well, thanks for pointing out the obvious. I could tell by the painting in your room that they were one in the same, Paul." I wasn't ready to deal with everything. We were going to have to tackle this mess one day at a time.

"She's not the same girl, sis. My Steph was full of life. She would question everything, tell stories about her life in vivid detail and she also lived for the moment," I stilled, my finger stirring the hot liquid in my cup for a brief moment before I continued. "Last night...that girl...she's Stephanie, but she's not. It's hard to explain when I have no idea what is going on with her. The Steph I knew would never let a man answer for her and she'd never be so quiet and complacent. I don't know if she changed herself or if Randy changed her, but the girl I am so much in love with is not _that_ girl."

"Did you notice that you said 'am' and not 'was'?" Lynn questioned, as she shot me a curious glance.

"It will always be 'am', Lynn. I'm always going to be in love with her." Even though the thought bothered me to say it, I knew it was true; she was my soul mate.

"Is that why you haven't truly dated anyone since she left? You figure, why bother, since you are still desperately in love with a woman who doesn't seem to exist anymore?" I bristled as I looked at my sister, who had a smug grin on his face.

Gordon had tried on numerous occasions to hook me up with friends of hers on blind dates and nothing ever came of them. A lot of the girls were pretty, interesting and were able to hold a conversation, but it just wasn't the same. I wasn't interested in a meaningless relationship. Then, when he suggested I at least try to get laid, I almost broke. I didn't want any sort of relationship unless it was with Steph, at least that was how I felt in the early days after her departure.

I tried, I really did, and I even dated Lynn's friend Emily for a few months, but she got frustrated with my erratic and confusing behavior and said we would be best as friends. I never heard from her after that, so clearly she wasn't serious about the friend thing. By this point, I had gotten turned off the prospect of dating someone seriously, though I did manage to have a few drunken one night stands. I was full of self-loathing on those days and just desperately wanted to feel something – anything.

"Does it really matter now? Why I haven't dated in the past isn't overly relevant to the fact that Steph is back in my life now and I have no fucking idea what to do about it all."

"That's just it...she's not really back in _your _life. She's in Randy's," Lynn replied unsympathetically, making my heart clench with the reality of her words. She was right; though Steph was here, she wasn't mine and she wouldn't ever be. Then again, did I really want the woman that she had become, the obedient wife, or did I want _my_ Steph from all those years ago? "You talked to her at the restaurant didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"I could sense something was up. So...what happened? Did she tell you why she left?"

"No. Our talk was pretty short. She begged me not to tell Randy about our past together," I replied through clenched teeth, as I looked across the room and eyed the liquor cabinet; wishing I could have a drink at that exact moment.

"That's kinda cold."

"Well, it's not like I would tell him anyways. Though, I would have loved to have had the satisfaction of telling him that I had fucked his woman first," I replied with a small grin on my face. It was bittersweet to know that I finally had some information of consequence to wield over my cousin, but that I couldn't use it to get any sort of revenge on him. He was still the winner in this situation; if there truly could be one.

"Okay, it would be pretty sweet to see the look on his face if you told him that Stephanie used to be your girlfriend. If that ever happens, make sure I'm there, alright? The smug asshole deserves it."

"Steph also said that seeing me again was 'unexpected, but not unwelcome'," I explained, using air quotes which made me feel like a douche.

"Fuck," Lynn groaned as she sat back against the couch and a deep frown came on her face. "I don't want her to fuck everything up. If you go back to how you were all those years ago, to the kid I literally had to beat some sense into after she left you, I'm not sure I could do it. I think it's best if you stayed away from her."

"It's not like I'm on a mission to find her, Lynn" I replied with a deep sigh. "I'm going to try my best to avoid all situations where we could get put together. It's not like I would help Mom with their move or anything, but I can do my best to avoid all the family dinners where Randy and Stephanie are invited."

"Should we give Mom and Dad a heads up?" I shook my head vehemently. "Yeah, they are on a need to know basis and this is something that they don't need to know. Though, you should be aware when you spend time with Mom cause she has a sixth sense or something. She always knows when something is up with us."

"I know...she'll read my face and sense something is wrong, but I can't bear to disappoint her again."

I sat back with Lynn as we both stared off in front of us. I patted her leg and gave her a quick thanks.

The next few days flew by with a flurry of work, but when I got home each night, I found myself gravitating towards the painting of Steph that was still propped up in my room.

I would go through the motions of eating dinner, doing dishes and sometimes even watching mindless TV, but before I knew it, I was sitting on the edge of my bed again, staring at the painting and reminiscing about the past.

About _my_ Steph.

I'd think about the heartbreak I felt when she left my old loft after I came on her chest during our first session. The conversation we had two days later that resulted in our first kiss and then the most intense and physical relationship of my life.

I couldn't help myself from falling in love with her. It was like we were two magnets, drawn together inexplicably and always aware of the other. As I fell back against my bed with a thud, images of us together ran through my mind as I realized that even though it damaged me, right down to my bones, when she left, I wouldn't have changed a thing.

I couldn't regret loving her.

Even in my darkest days, when things seemed to be the bleakest, I had no regrets. Loving Steph inspired me and brought me such ecstasy and hope in our few short months together. If I had known then how things would unfold, I wouldn't have changed it for the world. I was destined to love her.

It was right at that moment that my cell phone on my nightstand buzzed and I reached for it with a groan, surprised to see a text message from an unknown caller. Who the hell would text me?

_I stole your number from your mother. I'd like to see you. - Steph_

How the hell did she steal it from my mom? God, I hoped my mother didn't give it to her. That would raise way too much suspicion and I would be cornered into telling my mother how I knew Steph and what had happened between us. That was the last thing I wanted.

My mother only saw small glimpses of me in my bad days, since Lynn took it upon herself to have us get together with them when I was doing well. On my worst days though, Patricia would have been ashamed and disappointed in me. Though she knew things hadn't been good then, she didn't know the full extent of my downfall and subsequent stupidity.

I stood up and paced around the room, unsure of what to do. I was tempted to call Lynn, but I knew she and Gordon were out on a date for the evening. They were trying to conceive and felt under pressure and stress with each false pregnancy test and seemingly useless doctor's appointment. Gordon thought he would try to put a little romance back into the lives and he took her for a night out on the town. There was no way I was going to interrupt that.

_I don't think that's a good idea, _I replied with a small smile playing at my lips. I could do this; I could separate myself from her and move forward without the support of my brother. At least I could try.

_Randy leaves for Chicago in the morning. Please, I really need to see you._

Fuck.

I went into the living room and fixed myself a shot of whiskey before dragging the glass and the bottle into my bedroom with me. I stared at the painting for over half an hour, contemplating each possible move I could make in this situation, when my cell buzzed again.

_I'll bring you coffee tomorrow at 3pm at Olympic Sculpture Park. I just need 10 minutes._

I poured another shot and then another, finally deciding to just drink straight from the bottle. Why did she have to pick _that_ park? I hadn't even been back to the park since she left me. How in the hell could this woman affect me so much? Why couldn't I just ignore her messages and her existence? _Because she was your life at one point_, I told myself as I let out a deep yell of frustration.

She had Randy now. She didn't need me, and I had been doing my damndest not to need her until she reappeared in my life a few days ago. I ran through questions in my mind about her desperation to see me and came up with my reply.

_Why?_

_I just need to explain._

I took a final swig from the bottle and closed it up, placing it on my dresser before I stripped and climbed into bed. I sent a quick reply telling her I would be there and instantly regretted it.

I shouldn't have done that.

Sorry this took forever, I have been having a hard time writing just about anything. Sorry for any errors, I was writing this during the boring parts of Raw (the ones that didn't involve Triple H. lol) so anyways; I found a great deal of inspiration with this one. I will have another chapter up tomorrow, so please review so I know you guys want it.

*I will try to update Bullied for those who are asking, no promises though because I am really stuck on that one.

Reviews= happy Nicole = more updates!


	6. Chapter 6

**SPOV**

**October 2006**

_We shouldn't have done that._

Those words haunted me for the next twenty-four hours. Regardless of how Paul reacted, I couldn't help but feel like I had seriously fucked up. He was a sweet and caring kid who just wanted to paint and I couldn't help but feel like I was corrupting him. Fuck, I was going straight to hell.

After cleaning myself up at Paul's with a towel from his kitchen, I dressed quickly and ran from his loft, not particularly caring what was going through his mind as I left. He hadn't moved from the bathroom by the time I had made my way to the front door. I hesitated for a brief moment before pushing my way out the door and onto the service elevator.

I didn't break down and feel like an utter fool until I got back to my apartment. It was just before midnight when I collapsed onto my bed, pulling a pillow to my chest and crying like a pathetic little girl.

What the hell had I just done? Sure, I didn't know Paul that well, but I thought for sure there was some palpable sexual tension going on between the two of us. Apparently, I had been _very_ wrong. I couldn't fight my attraction to this kid long enough to get through a few weeks and earn the money I needed for my rent? I was already living hand to mouth and I had to go and fuck up the one thing that could have made a difference? I was a fucking idiot.

When I woke up the next morning, I had a raging headache and my eyes actually hurt. That was how bad I had cried the night before. I figure I had managed a total of two hours sleep, but that was beside the point. I had class in three hours and an overwhelming urge to throw myself off a cliff for not thinking things through. When the hell had following a whim ever worked well for me? Never, that's when. Yeah, I could be impetuous, but I never said that was a good thing.

I showered quickly, dressing without care, and before I went to leave I shoved a granola bar in my backpack for later. It would have to be enough. Just as I grabbed the doorknob to leave my safe haven, I saw an envelope on the ground and tensed before reaching down to pick it up.

All that was scrawled on the front were the words 'I'm Sorry' and inside was a wad of cash. Like a hell of a lot of cash. I was frozen. Why the hell had Paul done this? It wasn't like I actually deserved the money and I had basically ruined whatever friendship we had been building between us. I tossed the money on the counter and locked the door behind me, trying not to let the failures of my life, of which there were many, is the focus of my day.

I had class to get through.

Except, I didn't really get through class. I didn't pay attention to what my professors said and by the end of the day I hadn't written a single note from any of my classes. This was so very bad.

"You look rough," Kate said succinctly as I fetched my mail from the box in the main lobby as she walked in the door.

"Hello to you too, bitch."

"Well, if it isn't the Welcome Wagon. What crawled up your ass and died?" she questioned as we walked up the stairs to our floor together. "Oh wait; didn't you have your first session with the hot artist yesterday?"

"You could say that."

"I didn't go well?"

"Understatement of the century."

"He wasn't a pervert was he? If so, give me his address and I will go rip off his nuts and feed them to him for dinner. You know I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty...or bloody," Kate stated firmly as she stood behind me while I opened my door. Without me asking, she followed me in and waited as I went into my room to change. "Uh...Steph?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you have a thousand dollars in cash on your counter?" I bolted out my bedroom half-dressed and looked at Kate in shock.

"What?"

"I said, why do you have a thousand dollars in cash? I counted it. There's a bunch of hundreds and fifties here that total one grand. What did you do?"

"I did nothing," I lied as I pulled my shirt down over my bra and scrubbed at my face with my hand. I couldn't believe that for the few hours I was with Paul the day before he had given me a thousand dollars. This was so much more than I expected – or deserved. I blushed a deep shade of red as Kate looked at me with her eyes wide, knowing that something was up. She always knew.

"Liar."

"Whore."

"Yes, we know this already," she replied with a smile. "Now...tell me, what did you do to or with the artist man to get a grand? And where do I sign up?"

"I modeled for him and..." I paused briefly, unsure if I should continue, but she was my best friend. It would come out at some point, so why not sooner rather than later? "I may have given him a blowjob," I replied as I buried my face in my hands. I couldn't believe I had admitted that. As if I didn't feel horrible enough, Paul gave me a thousand dollars for doing basically nothing.

"Holy fuck...a thousand dollar blowjob? I didn't know you were that good."

"I'm not, at least I didn't think I was, but he's 19 and probably a virgin, so..." Oh my god, I was going to hell. Kate stared at me with her mouth wide open before she darted out the door and came back a moment later with a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses.

"Start talking."

Over the next few hours, Kate and I took some shots from the bottle as I told her about Paul and what had gone down in his loft and how I was inexplicably attracted to him. Through tears, hers of laughter and mine of sadness and regret, we talked about my concerns and hers.

"Yeah, I get how you could think that the money he had left you was for the blowjob, but it also could be because you sat for him for several hours and he worked on two paintings."

"Two still unfinished paintings."

"Does that mean you are going to go back…to finish the paintings?"

"And further humiliate myself? No thanks," I sighed as I took a swig right from her bottle of Patron, not even bothering with the salt, lemon or shot glass. "I'll use the money he gave me to cover rent and I'll start looking for a new job right away."

"What if he wants you to come back?" I quirked my eye at Kate and she handed me my buzzing cell phone from behind her. Being her ever nosy self, Kate stared at the screen as a mischievous grin crossed her face. "He messaged you."

_Can I see you tonight?_

"See...he wants to see you. I think you should go. Are you gonna go?" Kate rambled quickly as I groaned and buried my head in the pillows of my couch. Did I want to see him? A little bit. Did I think it would be awkward as all hell? Most definitely.

"No. I'm not gonna go."

"If your truck refused to work...again, I can have Garrett drive you, if you do want to go."

"No." I typed out a quick _I can't_ to Paul as Kate scowled at me, clearly disappointed.

"Did you ever think that maybe he's sitting back in his little artsy loft and thinking that he really fucked up your friendship? That maybe he feels worse than you do because, last time I checked, he was the kid that splurged all over your chest and couldn't even bother to say 'thanks for the header'?"

"I feel like I took advantage of him."

"Maybe he wants to be taken advantage of? Did you ever think of that? He obviously found you attractive; you gave the kid wood for Christ's sake."

"Stop calling him a kid," I shouted in frustration as Kate held up her hands in defeat.

"Just try and think of it from his perspective. He's trying to remain professional, but a hot chick is taking her gear off in front of him and then he fingers her by accident? Of course he had to go beat off. I'm shocked he didn't cum the moment your mouth found his cock."

"Kate..." I growled.

"How was it anyways? His cock I mean. Was it at least nice?"

"Okay, this is where the evening ends. Garrett should be home by now, go keep him company," I said as I stood up unsteadily and yanked Kate up from the couch, using all my weight to keep us both upright. "Thanks for patronizing me."

"I wasn't patronizing you, Steph. I'm just trying to get you to see both points of view."

"Yeah...thanks," I replied sarcastically as Kate opened the door and stumbled out to find Garrett with his fist raised, as if to knock on my door.

"I was looking for you."

"Well here I am," Kate replied with a hint of a slur as she looked at me and grimaced.

"Everything alright?"

"Yep, just fine," I said sullenly as Kate opened her mouth as if to say something, but my words silenced her. "Make sure to get some Advil or something into her. See you guys later." I shut the door and locked it firmly before moving to the couch and reaching for my phone. I wasn't shocked to see Paul had already replied.

_I just need to explain._

_Tomorrow._

Okay, so I really didn't want to see him just yet, but I couldn't postpone the inevitable. I would give him back his money and tell him that I was done. I couldn't take advantage of him, it wasn't who I was. I didn't take advantage of people like I had him. I grabbed my phone and lifted my tired body off the couch, as I headed to the bathroom to fetch my own medicine and water.

As I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering what the hell I was going to do next, my cell buzzed again with another message from Paul.

_Can you meet at 3pm at my place?_

_Make it 4? I have a class._

He sent a short 'ok' in reply and I tossed my phone onto the dresser before I let sleep claim me. Unfortunately, I slept restlessly and was plagued by nightmares of Paul morphing from his simple, creative self into a cold hearted figment of himself in a three piece suit who wouldn't even look at me and when he did, it was with complete disgust. It was disconcerting and when I woke, I wanted nothing more than to erase the past forty eight hours from my life.

If only it was that easy.

When I arrived at Paul's the next day, it took him a few minutes to answer the door. He didn't come down and help me with the elevator like usual, instead choosing to simply buzz me in so I could do make it up to his loft by myself. I would be lying if I said this didn't bother me. Even though I knew the way to his loft like the back of my hand, I had liked the additional attention from Paul.

"Hello?" I called, when I walked into the loft and noticed that Paul was nowhere to be found. I couldn't help but notice that the space looked downright depressing without him in it. There were no lights on; only the light streaming in from the windows to illuminate the room. "Anybody home?"

"I'll be right there," I heard his faltering voice call from down the hall where the bathroom was located. I put my bag down on the sofa, keeping it nearby in case I had to make a quick getaway from sheer embarrassment, and made my way over to where the two paintings from the other night still rested on their easels. It was clear that neither had been touched since I left and I wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad thing. "I'm sorry I was umm...unavailable."

Paul walked into the room and I immediately noticed how different he looked; less like a boy and more like a man. His posture was resigned and even though his head was hung low, I could see the darkness under his eyes. I would wager a guess that over the past two days he had probably slept worse than I had.

"Why don't you sit down?" I nodded at his request and moved to the couch, clutching my bag to me for support. "Did you get...?"

"The money? Yeah, I got it," I replied tensely and a little frustrated that _that_ was his first concern. No, how are you today? No, sorry I jerked off on your tits and froze up; I hope you can forgive me. Anything would have been a better starting point than making sure I received the money.

"Good," he said with a sigh of relief. "I wasn't even 100% sure that was your apartment, but I did some digging around and I'm glad to know that you got it."

"Yeah, I got it," I replied, my voice tense as I bit down forcefully on my bottom lip. "But, I'm giving it back." I dug around inside my bag and pulled out the envelope, thrusting it into his hands as he looked at me with pure confusion written on his face.

"No don't...please. You deserve the money, Steph."

"I don't."

"You do. You sat for me for hours remaining perfectly still, which is a feat for most people. You were an excellent model."

"Regardless, I overstepped the lines of our professional relationship." Fuck, I sounded like some lawyer or some shit. "Even though we had agreed to try and keep things friendly, I fucked them up. I never should have..."

"And if I wanted you to?" he asked timidly.

"What?" I remarked loudly as I turned my head, practically giving myself whiplash, so that I could see Paul's face. Was he saying what I thought he was? Surely I didn't hear him right? "Can you repeat that?"

"You would have had to be blind to not see the reaction I had to you, Steph. I'm just sorry things unfolded the way they did. I was a little um...caught off guard when you...umm...discovered me in the bathroom." Paul blushed briefly before shoving his fingers through his hair roughly, pulling it at all angles to make it look even more awkward. From the look of his hair, you could tell he had been doing the same motion for days now. It was also obvious that he was just as conflicted as I was. "I couldn't stop myself. It was either I took matters in my own hands or I'd..."

"Or you'd what?" I asked quietly, curious, as I edged closer to him on the couch.

Paul bent his head closer to mine, his lips practically kissing the shell of my ear as he whispered quietly to me. "Or I would have fucked you." I shivered.

I turned my head slowly and sucked in a deep breath before licking my lips and brushing them gently against his. Almost instantly, our bodies relaxed as we moved closer to one another, my hand reaching up the nape of his neck to thread through his hair as his hands found purchase against my lower back, our kiss deepening.

It was hesitant at first, tentative pecks and soft kisses, but it quickly turned passionate as I found myself straddling his lap and sucking on his tongue as our lips moved sinuously together. When we finally separated, both of us looked...relieved.

"That was..." Paul paused briefly as I brushed my finger over his lips and then kissed him sweetly. "Perfect."

"What do we do now?" I replied, eager to know what he thought about what had just transpired and how it would affect us in the long run. Did he want me to keep modeling for him? Could we separate a personal relationship from a working one?

"I want you to continue modeling for me and I want you to keep the money. You need it more than me, and you certainly deserved it for your work the other day. Perhaps you can model a bit more for me today?"

"Okay. I'll keep it and yes, I'd like to keep modeling more for you."

"Well that's a relief. I would have hated to find a new model when I have perfection before me. Now, the question of the hour is...what do you want, Steph?"

I took a moment to think of his question, because this would be a make it or break it moment. What did I truly want? I thought for another moment, daydreaming of Paul fucking me on the settee, in his bed and against his bathroom counter, before we cuddled and made love on the couch. I turned to face him and gave the most sincere answer I could think of.

"Everything. I want everything."

Thirty minutes later I found myself wrapped in the smooth silk robe, sitting on the settee in my first position from the other day with only my one breast exposed. Both of us were grinning like idiots, but trying to show some sort of decorum. We were supposed to be in artist and model mode, but all I could think of was about how Paul had asked me on a date earlier. The mere thought of actually dating was daunting to me, but I was trying to get past my anxiety. I knew he would be worth it.

"So...what did you think the first time I was sitting here for you?" I asked, changing topics completely. Immediately Paul blushed and a small smile crossed my face.

"Truth?"

"Always."

"Well I had posed you so you weren't fully exposed, but I couldn't stop myself from thinking about just how much I wanted to suck your nipple into my mouth." I gasped slowly at his boldness, but Paul just winked at me and went back to mixing a brownish red mixture on his palette, no doubt for my hair. "Well you asked for the truth."

"I want you to always be honest with me."

"I will," Paul replied seriously as he turned back to focus on his canvas.

"What did you think when you...you know?"

"No, I don't know."

"When you touched my pussy."

"I had a million thoughts running through my mind, but the first thing I wondered was how on earth this stunning creature could be attracted to me. I began to think that you had been daydreaming about something else, someone else, and not me."

"Oh believe me, all day I had been thinking about you."

"Really?"

"When I went to the bathroom during our break, I daydreamed about you taking me against your counter."

"That can be arranged, you know?" he laughed as the background music he had playing changed and he smiled brightly at me. "And thank you...I'll never look at that counter the same way again."

"Can I ask you something else?"

"Shoot."

"Why did you react the way you did? You know...when you came on me."

"I've thought about this since the moment I heard the door slam when you left," he admitted. "You weren't here to be something for me to use sexually, I was supposed to be painting you...focusing on my art and instead I couldn't control myself. I thought that you would be mortified with me. It's not like me to...do that. Then again, I don't usually feel the urge to jack off with guests in the apartment." I giggled slightly and watched intently as Paul put his palette down and shoved his brush in a container of filthy grey water. He came towards me, wiping his paint splattered hands on his shirt as he moved. When he stopped in front of me, my breath caught in my throat.

"I was attracted to you from the moment you introduced yourself. It increased tenfold when I saw you standing in my living room nude on that first day. I wanted you more than anything I had ever desired before. I had very explicit dreams of us doing the most depraved things and to be brutally honest, I have not jerked off as much in my life as I have over the past several days." His lips found purchase against the curve of my neck while his hand moved slowly up the back of my neck, his fingers threading through my hair.

"However, I didn't want to ruin the friendship that we had been building. You get me, and I'd like to think I get you and your motivations a bit more. That being said, I never wanted you to think I was using you to get off. I wasn't...well in my mind I was, but I truly _need_ you to model for me and I don't want to even consider anyone else."

"I'll continue to model for you. I promise," I whispered breathily as Paul's lips kissed the corner of my mouth.

"I don't know how to keep my feelings for you separate from my art," he admitted as his lips brushed gently against mine, causing me to shiver.

"Then don't."

Paul's strong hands grasped my face as he kissed me roughly, his tongue plunging inside my mouth as I moaned in approval. God, he was a fucking excellent kisser and so much more confident now than I gave him credit for. Was there anything this man could do wrong?

"I just need to know one more thing," Paul uttered slowly as I dropped the robe in the middle of the floor, giving him one playful peek, before moving behind the screen to get re-dressed. "Do you have an issue with my age? I mean...I know I'm 19, but I'd like to think I'm mature for my age. I'm definitely more mature than some of the people I've met."

I paused for a moment before pulling my shirt over my chest. All I had on were panties and my t-shirt as I moved from behind the screen to wrap my arms around a nervous Paul Levesque. "I don't have a problem with it. If I did, I wouldn't be indisputably attracted to you." I could feel Paul breathe a sigh of relief as I kissed his chin. "It's only five years. When I'm 29 and you're 24, will it even matter?"

*I love you guys so much, thank you for reviewing. I appreciate it so much even if it is a 'post more soon.' Please check out my new one shot I posted today, I might post a new one and a new chapter of Don't Hurt Me. I am really in the mood to write today.

As always, please review.


	7. Chapter 7

**PPOV**

**October 2011**

"You look like shit, bro," Lynn exclaimed as she walked into my office with a cup of coffee in one hand and a few rolls of blueprints in the other. "We have a meeting at eleven regarding the Smith account, and you better be on your A game. They are coming in to see the first draft and make changes."

Lynn was an architect, one of the most sought after for residential designs, and I was her pathetic sidekick. Well, maybe pathetic was the wrong word, but it's not like I loved being her lackey. It helped me make ends meet and when I desperately needed to get out of my post-Steph funk, she was really the only person who would hire me after I dropped out of school and she was starting her fledgling firm with some financial backing from our parents. I didn't even have the qualifications to be a true architectural assistant, but Lynn had faith in me and I've tried my best not to let her down over the past few years.

I couldn't promise that I wouldn't let her down on this day though.

"Smith?" I questioned, with my eyebrow quirked. For the life of me I couldn't remember what the Smith account was, probably because I had so many other things on my mind, like the fact that I was meeting Steph in a few hours and I hadn't slept at all the night before.

I had tried desperately to get some rest, believe me, but regardless of what I did, I couldn't shut off my mind. I turned on the TV and watched a shitty movie. I played on my computer and I even tried counting sheep, but nothing worked. This is why I had already had close to four cups of coffee and a Red Bull by ten-thirty in the morning.

"They are the account Mom hooked us up with. The complete rebuild of the house with two acres of land and a house that they flattened because it wasn't big enough. Mrs. Smith is particularly outrageous and wanted a mural of her kids, who are in their twenties, painted in her bedroom. Does any of this ring a bell, Paul?" Lynn dropped her papers on the edge of my desk and sat down, sipping her coffee while glaring at me. "What's wrong?"

"Why do you think something is wrong?" I replied, shutting down the game of Angry Birds I was playing on my MacBook and trying to act as normal as possible. I gathered my notebook and favorite pen, before I looked at Lynn with impatience. I wanted this meeting over. Hell, I wanted the entire day over with. "I'm fine; I promise."

"You're acting all weird."

"Weird how?"

"Well, let's start with how you are answering all my questions with questions."

"Am I?"

"There you go again. What the fuck, Paul?" she groaned as I let out a small sigh of defeat. Lynn was far too inquisitive for me to not tell her, so I decided to just bite the bullet and tell her.

"Steph contacted me the other day." I folded my arms against the top of my desk and rested my head on them, willing my headache to go away and for my thoughts to be of anything but Steph.

"No shit. What did she have to say?"

"She wants to meet me today."

"Oh really? How on earth is she going to get out from under the watchful eye of Randy the asshole? Surely he has her locked in a cage or something when they aren't out in public?" Lynn joked as I simply rolled my eyes.

"He went back to Chicago for a few days. I think she's staying behind to look at houses with Mom." Lynn went silent for a moment, sipping on her coffee and watching me intently. I lifted my head and leaned back against the chair with a groan, knowing full well that I was about to sound like a child. "I don't want to go."

"Then don't go."

"I feel like I owe it to her or something," I explained in a whisper, as Lynn's eyes grew wide at my remark.

"If you ever listen to one thing I have to say, listen to this – you do not owe her anything. You gave her your heart and your art, and she chose to leave you. She threw away whatever it was you two had and disappeared for almost five years. Hell, she would still be gone if she hadn't hitched her cart to our fucking moron of a cousin. If you don't want to go…don't go." I explained to Lynn that Steph hadn't left my mind since the moment we made plans for today, that I had slept for shit and I forgotten to eat breakfast. "She's fucking everything up…again."

"So, I shouldn't go, right?"

"She's engaged. Why do you want to put yourself through the torture of seeing her again? It's not like she can ever be yours again, even if you want her to be."

"I don't know!" I gasped as my phone suddenly beeped and I could hear the voice of Andrea, Lynn's assistant come through.

"You are both wanted in the conference room for the Smith meeting." I pressed the button on my phone and thanked her as Lynn gathered up her blueprints.

"Listen, this meeting won't be super long, so why don't you beg off early when it's done. I think you need more time to process all this shit," Lynn urged as we walked together down the hallway to our conference room. "If you go, make sure you tell her in no uncertain terms what she's done to you. Maybe seeing that you have changed so much, because of her, will make her back off."

"What if I don't want that…don't want her to back off, I mean?"

"I told you already dude, I'm not picking up the pieces again. You need closure," Lynn reminded me as we pushed the door open to the room and came face to face with our clients, John and Suzanne Smith. "It's so wonderful to see you both again. How about we get started right away?"

The meeting was easy enough. The clients loved most of the things Lynn had drawn up, per their original specifications. The items that Lynn didn't think would be feasible all had a great explanation behind them, so the clients didn't question much. Mrs. Smith seemed obsessed with her en suite bathroom and had Lynn try to take some space away from her master bedroom to enlarge the bathroom, and she wanted to make sure that every room with either tile or marble had heated floors. It was interesting to see how the other side lived, which was generally in excess.

After our meeting, I was cornered by Mrs. Smith who kept suggesting that she hook me up with her, I politely declined, and told her that though I was single, it was complicated. She slipped her daughters number in my pocket anyways, and when they left, I tossed it out.

I left work early, like Lynn had suggested, and headed towards The Sculpture Park. I parked in the same parking lot I always had and decided to ignore the park and walk around the city for a bit instead. I passed through the sculpture park and headed into a small bar for a drink. One drink turned into three and at just after two in the afternoon, I wandered from the bar and back down to where I knew Steph would be waiting.

On my way, I passed a small gallery and I couldn't ignore the pull I felt towards it. When I stepped inside the ornate door, I came face to face with some seriously exceptional artwork. It had been a long time since I had visited a gallery, museum or the park I was meeting Stephanie at. I just didn't feel the same way about art as I once had, but being in the small gallery seemed to change things. There were paintings, drawings, sculptures and mixed media throughout the space and I was impressed, and surprised, that I hadn't been there before.

"Can I help you with something?" asked a woman with long dark hair and a thin build. She was pretty in an unconventional sort of way, but the way she carried herself with confidence was different; especially in contrast to Steph.

"I was actually just walking by and wanted to take a peek. I've never noticed this store before," I remarked as I walked slowly through the gallery and stopped in front of a painting that looked somewhat familiar to me, but I couldn't place it. "You have some marvelous works in here."

"You know art?" I glanced down at her name tag briefly before lifting my head to face her.

"Well, Leah, I used to paint. I went to the University of Boston for Art, but it's been a while since I actually created anything of substance. However, this one is memorable to me. Who is the artist?" I had looked at the bottom right hand corner of the canvas to try and determine the artist, but there were just initials JL.

"Joanie Laurer; she also graduated from the University of Boston art program, about three years ago. An artist with a preference towards..."

"Charcoals," I replied, finishing her comment. I should have known from the moment I first laid eyes on the work that it was something done by Joanie. We had a couple of classes together and we knew of each other, but we became 'friends' of sorts after Steph left. Not that I felt anything romantic towards her, but she was a distraction during my early reckless days following Stephanie's departure. I wasn't sure how I felt seeing her work again though. It was always very dark and depressing, but very emotive. It was good to see someone from our class was doing something worthwhile and following their dream.

"Do you know of Joanie?" asked Leah, as I nodded my head softly.

"I didn't graduate, but we had some classes together and mutual friends."

For the next thirty minutes, Leah and I talked about art and artists, mostly local ones and graduates of Boston, but it was refreshing to talk about art again with someone who knew so much. I hadn't truly had a chance, or even thought about, discussing art again and for a short while, it took my mind off of everything.

Of course it was at that moment that I realized I was running late for my meeting with Steph. "Thanks for your help. I'll be back one day," I said sincerely as Leah offered her card and I slipped it in my jacket pocket.

"Anytime you want to discuss art or even just get a drink...call me," she replied sweetly. As she made her way back through the store I couldn't help but notice the sway of her hips as she went. Had she been flirting with me the entire time? Was I that blind?

I was ten minutes late to meet Steph at the park, but like I had assumed, she was standing near 'The Eagle' sculpture that was one of the standouts at the park.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming," Steph replied as I stopped in front of her. She moved to lean in and give me a hug, but I backed away. "Too much, right?"

"Yeah, way too much," I answered as she came and stood beside me, a slight frown on her face. "Do you want to walk and talk?" I nodded slowly, but the conversation she directed us to immediately make me uncomfortable. "I remember the first time we came here; you taught me so much about art that day. You told me all about Calder and his mobiles and how you wanted to go to National Gallery with me to see his works..."

"Stop, please," I asked, with frustration clear in my voice.

"I went...two years ago. Kate wanted to take a girls trip and we went to Washington D.C. She wasn't into art, so while she was checking out the National Library, I went to see the Calder Exhibit. Did you ever make it there?"

"No, and I really don't want to hear about you going either," I replied through clenched teeth.

"I was escorted out of the building, because I went into his exhibit, sat myself on the ground in the middle of it and began crying uncontrollably," Steph admitted as I watched her wipe tears from her face with the back of her hand. When she looked back at me, she had a small smile on her face. "I miss you."

"You don't have the right to miss me, Stephanie." I felt like I was on the verge of snapping and saying something I would truly regret. I couldn't believe she had dragged me down here to tell me how much she missed me and to tell me she had gone to the National Gallery without me. That had been something I desperately wanted with her, and even now, it could never happen. Not that I expected it would. "You can't do this to me. I can't handle it."

"I'm trying to be honest with you about everything."

"You should have been honest years ago before you left," I argued, my voice dripping with venom and pure anger as Steph paced around me, clearly anxious about my reaction. "Why don't you tell me how you ended up with Randy?"

"Umm...when I moved to Chicago, I lived with Kate for a little bit. She and Garrett had moved there after graduation when he scored a sweet job," she said quickly, noticing my impatience. "She suggested that I get in touch with my mother and to either try and mend our relationship or end it altogether. It was at a dinner party that my mother threw where I met Randy."

"I thought he mentioned that you worked for his firm as a legal assistant?"

"I did, but I didn't ever notice him at work. He apparently noticed me though," she said softly as she paused as we were walking towards another sculpture. "Are you sure you want to hear all of this?"

"Of course I don't want to hear any of it. I fucking hate Randy more than anything; I have since we were children, and to find out that you guys are engaged is like the second worst thing in the world. That prick always got whatever the fuck he wanted, and you are no exception," I seethed, my blood practically boiling at the mere thought of Steph and Randy together.

"I told you the other night; I didn't know you and Randy were related. He's an Orton, you're a Levesque..."

"It doesn't matter. You are with Randy, which is just another reason for me to stay away from you." I shoved my hands in the pocket of my jacket and began to walk away, but Steph ran to catch up with me. "I don't know why the hell you wanted me to meet you today. Especially here. We had good memories here and now they are tainted."

Steph froze in front of me and held her hands up, her eyes and body begging me to stay. "I came because I wanted to see if I could find you, and it was easier than I expected. I just..."

"You just what? Realized your life was crap and that Randy was a raging asshole who treated you like shit?"

"I realized I was still in love with you. Hell, long before I went to Washington D.C., I realized I was in love with you, but I knew you wouldn't take me back. Not after what I had done."

"You were right...I wouldn't take you back," I replied simply as tears formed in the corner of Steph's eyes and the confident woman I had known years ago disappeared and became the silent shell of her former self. "Neither of us is the same anymore. We've changed and not necessarily for the better. I haven't picked up a paintbrush in almost five years and you...well clearly you've done nothing about your poetry."

"I wrote to you," she admitted quickly as my eyes darted from the bench I had been staring at to her. "They all came back. I had the wrong address."

"I moved. Well, Lynn forced me to move."

"I figured."

"So much for my plan to ask if we could go there – to the loft."

"I still own it. I haven't stepped foot in it in years though. Lynn and Gordon cleaned it out after I practically ruined the place." I admitted, although I regretted it immediately.

The less I told Steph about the months after she left, the easier this would all be. I didn't want to relieve those dark days...ever, but Lynn thought it would be cathartic or something. I wasn't sure I agreed with her.

"I still have the letters I sent you. Maybe...I could give them to you one day, so you could see that I..." Steph said, her voice barely a whisper as I let out a huge sigh.

"I don't want to see them. You have no idea just how fucked up my life was when you left. What I did to cope, to get past everything. I lost the only two things that I loved – you and my art – so no, I don't want to read about how _your_ life was difficult when _you_ left, because it was your choice. Throw them away, shred them…fuck, burn them, I don't fucking care," I shouted in frustration. "I need to go," I said callously as Steph's eyes grew wide in surprise.

"Oh...I thought maybe we could go and have coffee and talk some more, but if you have other plans, I get it," she said, the hurt from my behavior clear in her voice.

"Bye, Stephanie." With a small modicum of strength, I walked away from her and I had to admit, it didn't give me the high I always thought it would. I simply felt like shit.

"I'm leaving Randy," she called out. I stopped for a moment and then did something Lynn would be very proud of; I kept walking away from her.

**A/N: I am kind of disappointed with the lack of reviews last chapter. Want to make it up to me? Review this one! I am hoping for a lot of reviews for this chapter before I update….**


	8. Chapter 8

**SPOV**

**October 2006**

After class the next day, I showed up at Paul's apartment at our agreed time and he was just arriving home. He looked all out of sorts, with his button down shirt half tucked into his jeans. It was a weird look, but he was so fucking adorable that he pulled it off without any trouble.

"You have exceptional timing," I replied as Paul closed the door to his small car and moved towards me, his arms wrapping easily around my waist as he kissed me sweetly on the lips and lifted me off the ground. It was unexpected, but very welcome. His lips were warm, soft and so tempting that it was hard for me to not grab him and mount him on the hood of his car. I had to show some semblance of calm around the man, at least for a little while.

"I actually was rushing around all afternoon. I had a morning class and a meeting with my advisor. In fact, I was telling him about you." Paul put me down and kissed me softly again as my mind began to move a mile a minute.

"What about me?" I asked, anxiously. I certainly hope he wasn't telling him about how our relationship crossed the line between business and pleasure. Was he even allowed to do that? Wait…did they even care? All they cared about was the works he produced, right?

"We talked about the paintings and how excited I was about them, nothing more, Steph. I promise." I breathed a sigh of relief as Paul moved towards the trunk of his car, holding onto my hand as he went. "Then I went to the store to get some supplies and groceries, since I was running out of food. Sometimes when I get completely overwhelmed in painting, I can lose track of time. Keep that in mind if I seem to go missing or something." I nodded in understanding as I helped Paul grab the bags from the back of the car. We then brought them up into the loft, where Paul unloaded them as I sat on the couch, getting comfortable.

"I have something planned for us today," he stated as I watched him shove some food into his freezer without care.

"Is it another painting? Do you need me to get undressed?"

"As much as I might regret this, no…your clothes should stay on."

"Where's the fun in that?" I asked with a laugh as I watched Paul put away some bottles of paint and other supplies, before he came towards me, a grin covering his face.

"I know…I've been kicking myself for making this decision too." Paul held up his hands and made the motion like he was weighing something before stating, "Nude Steph or Date with Steph", over and over again. It appeared that 'Date with Steph' was the clear winner.

"So, we're going on a date, huh?"

"That is the next logical step, right?" Paul asked, clearly unsure of himself. To be honest, I wasn't sure what the next step in our switch from friendship to more should be either. I'd never gone from being a nude model to…whatever it was Paul and I were doing. However, I guess a date was as good of a start as anything.

"It's perfect," I replied with a soft kiss to his cheek as Paul grabbed my hand in his and then pulled me up from the couch.

"Good…now I hope those are comfortable shoes, cause we will be walking a bit." I glanced down at my footwear and determined that I would be fine as Paul led us from his apartment and back down to his car.

It was twenty minutes later when we pulled into a parking lot near the waterfront and Paul was literally bursting with excitement. "The weather wasn't too cold today so I thought it would be a good chance to come here. Before we know it, winter will be here and we will freeze our butts off."

"And where is here?" I asked, as Paul and I climbed from his car and he came around to my side, where he slipped his hand in mine effortlessly and helped me out. I looked at our surroundings, but I was confused. In all my years living in Boston, I hadn't really had the opportunity to come to this area much, but I knew it well enough.

"The Sculpture Park, of course." Paul turned me to face away from the waterfront and sure enough, to the northwest of us was a large open space filled with sculptures and walking space. It looked so inviting and I could completely understand Paul's enthusiasm about it all. It also made me a little sad because I didn't have anything in my life I was so passionate about. He had his art; it gave his life meaning and fulfilled him in ways that nothing else could. He was so lucky.

Paul and I walked along and he pulled me into the park where we walked for a few minutes, taking in our surroundings and watching others who were enjoying the sculptures and taking pictures, before we came to a stop.

"This is by far my favorite piece here," Paul said with a lithe motion of his hands as he pointed to a big orangey-red pile of steel. I had no idea what it was, but it was nice to see.

"And it is your favorite because?" I asked, confused. It just didn't look like anything to me. I clearly didn't have the eye for art that Paul did, but I usually knew what I liked. This pile of steel didn't look like much.

"It's beautiful. It's called 'The Eagle' and is by a world-renowned American artist named Alexander Calder. He is most famous for making oversized mobiles…"

"Like baby mobiles?" I interrupted.

"Sort of," Paul answered with a small smile on his face. "They are usually much too big for a crib and don't have anything cute on them like fuzzy bunnies or the fish from _Finding Nemo_, but they are awesome nonetheless."

"I'll take your word for it," I replied as I surveyed the steel in front of me once again and Paul eased his arm over my shoulder, pulling me tightly into his side. I breathed in his strong scent as a gust of wind passed around us. Thankfully, I wasn't caught nuzzling into his side and smelling him like the maniac I felt like I was at that moment.

"At the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. there is an entire room dedicated to Calder and his art. Maybe one day we can go," Paul stated, his voice unwavering and hopeful, as I felt my insides sink.

I had to admit that his off-handed comment caught me completely off guard. This was technically our first date, and he was being so optimistic about the future. I felt, even though I was head over heels for him, that I was misleading him somehow. I hadn't meant to do it, but Paul already appeared so serious about us, that I was a little worried.

As I stood there, just nodding my head along with what he was explaining about the artist, but not really listening, I knew there was no reason for me to break his heart. For all I knew, we would be together forever, and we would make that trip to Washington. Who knew what the future held for us?

"I've also been dying to go to New York City and visit the Whitney and the MOMA, not just because they feature the works of Calder, but because they house so many awesome works, you know?"

"No…not really. I don't have anything in my life that is as all-encompassing as your art. I love standing here and listening to you tell me about these different artists because they mean so much to you. You could probably teach art if you wanted to. I can tell just how passionate you are about that aspect of your life."

"What about poetry?"

"What about it? Do I enjoy writing it? Sure, I do. I also love reading it and I have dozens of favorites that I could recite from memory, but I'm not sure that it affects me in the same way that art does to you."

Paul turned to face me and pulled me close into his arms as he towered over me, his over six foot frame making me seem so small in his shadow. "Quote something."

"What?" I asked, incredulously as Paul kissed my forehead softly.

"Tell me one of your favorites. If you can recite one from memory, show me." I paused for a moment and looked up at Paul, who had such sincerity in his eyes that I couldn't deny him. I cleared my throat briefly as I thought of something to recite to him, unsure if he would know it or not.

"This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless, Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done, Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best, Night, sleep, death and the stars."

"That was beautiful," he replied with his usual breathtaking grin as he fingered the ends of my hair before reaching up and pushing some stray tendrils behind my ear. "Much like the woman who said it."

"Well, I have to be a bit prettier than Walt Whitman, right?"

"I don't know…was he pretty?" Paul asked as he pulled me in for a tight hug. "Regardless of what you think Steph, you clearly have passion. If you didn't, you wouldn't have been able to recite that poem from memory. What is that poem about?"

"Depends who you ask. A lot of poetry, like art I guess, is subjective. Some people think it is about releasing the soul back into the universe, which is probably the theory I like best." Paul nodded his head slowly and kissed my temple before leading me through the rest of the park, explaining bits and pieces about the sculptures and the artists.

"How did you get to be so smart?" I questioned, as he finished telling me about one of the other pieces, which was a bench fashioned to look like an eye.

"With art, I've just thrown myself in headfirst and tried to learn as much as I could. The constant encouragement of my parents helped a lot too," he admitted easily, before he stopped in his tracks and looked at me with apprehension. "As for everything else, I have no idea what I am doing. I'm sorta making everything up as I go along. I have no idea what I am doing with you, Steph. I'm completely out of my element."

"You certainly wouldn't know it," I admitted as I watched our hands swing between us. "Everything you are doing is right. At least I think so, and I'm the only one you need to impress, right?"

Paul moved our entwined hands behind my back and leaned in to kiss me, his lips moving effortlessly against mine. I used my free hand to wrap my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and pull him closer against me, both of us letting out a small groan before our tongues found the other, deepening our kiss. When we finally parted, both of us panting and me definitely wanting more, Paul had a huge grin on his face.

"Wow."

"Yeah, wow," I replied, mirroring his response and letting out a small giggle. "You are welcome to do that any time you want." Paul blushed and led me down the path to see the last few sculptures in the park.

As the day slowly faded to night, and when Paul had finished showing me his world and asking me about poetry, we made our way down the street for dinner. It was nice and casual; Paul was a perfect gentleman and seemed much wiser than his nineteen years. I would have been lying if I said that he wasn't something special to me. With each passing moment he was making me fall for him more and I had only known him for a few days.

He drove me back to my apartment and when I invited him in, eagerly hoping for a bit more of the kissing we had done in the park, I was shocked when he declined. Instead, Paul gave me a sweet kiss on the lips and promised that he would see me soon, but he had the sudden urge to paint. There was no way I could deny him.

When I walked into my small apartment just after nine o'clock, I felt a little saddened that he didn't want to paint me, but considering how great our day was; I wasn't going to dwell on it.

"Did you just say he took you to Shari's?" Kate asked, sounding aghast when I mentioned my date with Paul. "Wow, he is young isn't he? I'm shocked you didn't go to Chuck E. Cheeses."

"Shut your pie hole. The restaurant was near the park we went to," I defended, albeit a bit helplessly.

"At least he didn't take you to Subway, right?" Kate mentioned with a laugh as she curled her legs underneath her body, getting comfortable beside me on the couch. "I am just saying, he seems pretty rich, he should take you somewhere fancy…. Okay, so you say that the date was at least good? Did you drink? Cause he can't, so that could have gotten awkward."

I paused for a moment as I took a sip of my beer and watched Kate, who seemed a little too interested in what was going on in my love life. I mean, sure, it was about time I had any sort of romantic life, but she had never really cared about it before. "Yeah, it was good," I remarked casually hoping to appease her curiosity, but knowing very well that I hadn't.

"There's got to be something more than that you can give me, Stephy. I'm living vicariously through you. Garrett and I haven't been out on an actual date in weeks."

"Give me a break," I said, exasperated, knowing full well that they had gone out to a concert and dinner the week before.

"Oh fine, but I'm your best friend, you have to share some details with me. It's like...law or something."

"Fine, here are some details for you. I met him at his loft, we went to The Sculpture Park and talked about art and poetry before he took me out to dinner and then drove me home. He had to go home and paint, so I stayed up and read. There ya go."

"No groping, kissing or third base action?" I shook my head. "His hand didn't slip and accidently grab a boob?"

"Nothing."

"Wow, I'm disappointed," Kate said with a thoughtful look on his face. "Based on his age I thought he would be all about getting a little action from something other than his hand."

"There's no need to be disappointed. I had a wonderful time and I'm looking forward to another date," I replied truthfully. "Plus, I have no idea if he's a virgin or not. I've never asked."

"Do you think he is?" she questioned, with a quirked eye brow, but I ignored her. Honestly, I had no idea if he was or not, and I wasn't sure I cared. I wanted him regardless.

I had gotten a text from Paul early in the morning after our date thanking me for a great night, but I hadn't heard from him again. That was two days ago. I had messaged him this morning and let him know I was free for the day, hoping to get some modeling time in with him, but there was no response as of yet, which made me nervous.

To add to my anxiety was the fact that I had paid my landlord five-hundred of the thousand dollars that Paul had given me, using the rest to pay some bills so I didn't have my power shut off or collectors calling me at all hours, but I still owed quite a bit on the rent. When I paid him, he grunted and complained that I wasn't paying the full balance, but I promised it to him in a few days. Now, I was on the verge of calling my mother if I didn't hear from Paul soon.

"So, new topic…when do Garrett and I get to meet him?" Kate asked, pulling me from my thoughts of my potential financial ruin.

"How about never?" I replied jokingly as Kate crossed her arms in front of her chest and huffed at me like she was a toddler about to throw a massive temper tantrum. "Okay, how about in a few weeks. Let me and Paul get through our first few weeks of...whatever this is we are doing, and maybe I'll have you all over for dinner."

"If you still have a place to live by then, right?"

"I won't go homeless. I'll talk to my mother first before things get that bad…maybe."

Kate spent the rest of our Saturday afternoon distracting me until Garrett got home from work. Watching mindless TV while munching on some chips and drinking the last few beers in my fridge. They would definitely be a luxury now that money was tight. Garrett came in and claimed Kate shortly after six and invited me to join them for dinner, but I declined, still holding out hope that Paul would call or text, wanting to see me.

Needless to say, later that night when my phone did ring, I instantly answered it with excitement clear in my voice.

"It's about time you called," I said playfully, as I heard a throat clear on the other end of the line and I immediately froze.

"Were you expecting my call, Stephanie?" My mother asked simply, as I threw myself down on my bed with a thump, and covered my mouth with my arm to let out a silent scream. I wasn't ready to deal with her controlling shit at that point, or any point really. My mother had the ability to annoy the shit out of me with just six words.

"I'm sorry, Mother, but I thought you were someone else."

"Well, I hope I am not disappointing you. Marcus reminded me earlier today that it had been a while since I had last heard from you and I just wanted to check in and make sure you were surviving." I held back a snort of laughter, finding it hilarious that her new husband had to remind her to make sure I was still alive. "I trust everything is going well for you these days?"

"Yes, I'm doing just fine. Busy with all my studies and working, you know how it is." Actually, there was no way she knew what my life was like. Linda McMahon hadn't worked a day in her life, unless you counted bossing around the employees of her house work. After marrying Vince they became pregnant with me right away and she stayed home to raise me. Now that she was married to Marcus, the multi-millionaire, she avoided work like the plague.

"I'm sure you are very busy, dear. How is your father doing?"

"Don't act like you care, mother," I snapped, frustrated with the attitude she was putting on. She didn't care about my father's well-being, so I couldn't fathom why she wanted to know how he was doing. She had to learn when to leave well enough alone.

"Stephanie, I never stopped caring for your father, I just wasn't in love with him anymore."

"So instead you had an affair with someone else? You don't know anything about love, Mother."

"Stephanie..." she bristled at me, no doubt wanting to chide me for my rude behavior, but I didn't care. She was the one who left us. It was she who decided to leave once I had moved out because she thought it would be best. It was best for no one but her. Linda was as selfish as they came and I hoped to god I would never be like her. "You don't know what you are talking about. You weren't in the relationship with Vince and me, so don't judge me for my decisions. I did what was best for me."

"I'd rather not talk at all, if it's all the same to you."

"Fine Stephanie, we just won't talk anymore today, though I was hoping that you might consider coming out to Chicago for the holidays."

"I'm staying with Dad for Christmas."

"I'd like for you to at least consider it," Linda said trying to sound a little hopeful.

"Don't hold your breath," I muttered.

"Well, if I don't hear from you in a few weeks, I will call back." I was silent, knowing that she was waiting for some sort of confirmation from me. "Do you need any money for your books or tuition this semester, dear?"

This was usually how Linda operated, and it drove me nuts. She would call, make sure I was still drawing breath and see if she could help...with money. She never once tried to engage me in talk about my studies or my friends. Hell, she barely even seemed interested enough in the call to find out how I was doing. Her attempts at engaging me were pathetic, especially considering how close we were when I was younger. Then again, I was no better for taking money from her when she offered it because it made her feel like she was contributing to my life, when she really wasn't.

"No. I'm fine," I lied, my body shaking in frustration and regret. I needed the money, I really did, but I didn't want to give her the satisfaction she would get by helping me.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I replied through clenched teeth. "Listen, Mom, I have to go. I have a major essay to write for one of my classes and I need to get working on it."

"You should go out and have fun, Stephanie. It's a Saturday night. Don't spend all your time focused on your studies," she encouraged, thinking that she was being helpful, when really all she did was remind me that I was home alone on a Saturday night.

"Thanks Mom. I'll talk to you in a few weeks." I hung up the phone and breathed a sigh of relief, but only for a moment, when I realized that I really should have said yes to her offer of money. If I had agreed, most of my problems would have disappeared and I would be able to lift the problem of rent off my shoulders. At least until the next payment was due.

I tossed my phone on my nightstand and stared up at the roof of my small bedroom, glancing briefly at the clock to see that it was almost ten. Surely Paul would still be up at ten, right? I grabbed the phone back and quickly dialed his number, waiting impatiently and hoping like hell that he would answer the phone. I missed him, and it hadn't even been that long since I saw him last.

"This is Paul, you know what to do," declared his voicemail after the fourth ring. I hung up and cursed myself for calling him before curling up in my bed and pulling the covers over my head. I just wished the day would end.

As I was beginning to fall asleep a short while later, I heard knocking on my front door and reluctantly climbed from my bed to answer it, certain that it would be Kate. However, when I looked through the small peephole, I was surprised to see Paul standing there.

I opened the door and was greeted with his tired looking face, streaked with paint and small frown lines around his mouth. Wordlessly, I ushered him in and led him to my bedroom, where we both undressed and climbed into bed, needing something, but unable to voice it.

I fell asleep that night, wrapped in his arms and unable to contain my excitement that he had come for me. Unfortunately, his arrival also left me with a lot of questions, but for that moment, they weren't important. The only thing I cared about was that he was there with me; we were together.

**Going to post chapter nine tomorrow if I get enough reviews. :-) Please review, even if it is a short one. It lets me know you guys actually read it.**


	9. Chapter 9

**PPOV**

**October 2011**

The next few days went by slowly as I tried to deal with the aftermath of my conversation with Steph and the rest of my pathetic little life. Okay, so to some people it wasn't pathetic, but I couldn't help but feel like I wasn't moving forward. My life was at a complete standstill.

My mother invited me to lunch with her the day after I met with Steph at the park and I promptly declined, knowing full well that most of our lunch would revolve around my disappearance from the dinner from hell the weekend before. Either that or she would talk about Randy like he hung the moon. That was usually what happened where he was concerned, no matter whose company I was in. Unless it was Lynn; she loathed Randy almost as much as I did.

Randy's mother, Elaine, is the big sister to my mother, Patricia. They were always close growing up, married within a year of each other and were pregnant at the same time with Randy and Lynn, though Randy was born first. He never lets us forget that little fact either; that he was the oldest of all the kids born in the family. My Aunt Elaine was the sweetest woman I had ever met, which could only mean that Randy got his shitty attitude and god complex from my Uncle Robert, who wasn't exactly around a lot while we were growing up.

Lynn and I were both too little to remember when Uncle Robert moved their family to Chicago, but I could only imagine how horrible life would have been if we had to endure Randy on a regular basis. The major holidays and sporadic vacations were bad enough, but being forced to spend time with Randy on a weekly or even monthly basis would have been unbearable.

I could appreciate how close my mother and her sister were, I had practically the same relationship with Lynn, but I didn't need to hear about how wonderful and successful Randy had become every time I got together with my mother. I sold my first major painting at fifteen for over $20,000, while Randy was in his first year of college, but you never hear anyone gush about that, simply because no one ever discussed my art anymore for fear of pissing me off. It was an unmentionable topic, and to have to face it head on with Steph the other day just put me in a shitty mood.

"Okay, so the Smith's approved the design today. Those little changes we made seem to have made all the difference," Lynn said as she stuck her head into my office, a huge grin plastered across her face. "We're all gonna go to dinner at the Waterfront Seafood Grill tonight to celebrate, so put on your happy face."

"Yeah, I'll be there," I replied with a sigh, as I began wondering who the hell picked the restaurant that was just two blocks from Sculpture Park. Either someone was psychic or fate just hated me.

"Come on…where's your excitement over this? We're almost done this project. I've already got them hooked up with a contractor and we're working on the permits so we can get the building underway as soon as possible," Lynn explained hurriedly as she sat down in the chair across from my desk and proceeded to get comfortable. "Think positive, Suzanne will stop trying to hook you up with her daughter any time now."

"Somehow I doubt she'll give up." I had been so wrapped up in my own world that I hadn't had the time to tell Lynn about the three emails and two voicemails Suzanne had left me all under the guise of additional suggestions for the house, which she then decided against before she dropped hints about her daughter and left her number. Of course there was no way I was going to do anything about it, my life was romantically fucked up enough as it was.

"She and John have already given us two referrals for friends of theirs looking for architects. How awesome is that?"

"That's really great news, Lynn," I replied somberly as Lynn smacked her hand against my desk, pulling me from my thoughts. "Okay, you've been out of it for days. Are you going to tell me what happened when you met up with Steph?"

"Nothing happened."

"I call bullshit."

"We met and she didn't bring me coffee though she said she would in her text."

"Oh, so you showed up, she didn't bring coffee and you were pissed off at the lack of caffeine, so you left?"

"No, it didn't quite go down like that," I sighed, exasperated. I couldn't figure out why I wasn't telling Lynn everything that happened between us, especially since she had been my only source of support after Steph disappeared all those years ago. She looked at me with a hint of impatience and a whole lot of curiosity, so I just let it fly, telling her everything that had happened between us at the park. "Then, as I'm getting ready to leave, she blurts out that she wants to leave Randy."

"Fucking right," Lynn added with a little too much exuberance. "I don't like the girl, which is solely because she broke your heart, but I don't think anyone deserves the torture of being subjected to Randy. He's toxic."

"It doesn't make a difference to me if she stays with him or leaves him, Lynn. We never really got into an in depth discussion about our past. Without any sort of justification about what went down between us, I'm not sure her leaving Randy makes a difference. Hell, she might not even leave him. I mean, what reason would she have for leaving him?"

"He's a complete and utter douche who treats her like a possession rather than a person. I mean, I treat my iPhone better than he treated her at dinner the other night." I nodded my head in agreement as Lynn continued ranting on.

"Please don't turn back into the emo, depressing and self-destructive bastard that you were when she left the first time." I glared at her, trying to show some control, but having none.

"This isn't like the last time."

"Do I need to remind you about Joanie?"

"No, you don't need to remind me. I had a lovely reminder of her the other day." Lynn's eyes grew wide and I could tell she was worried. "I went into a gallery before meeting Steph and they had a piece done by Joanie there. I thought I recognized it, and the woman who worked there, Leah, confirmed it for me."

"I hope it was just a reminder of her."

"Lynn, Joanie was a very brief part of my past..."

"It doesn't matter how short you knew her, as far as I am concerned, I hope you never see her again; she was a crazy bi..." My phone started buzzing on my desk, signaling that I had a new text, but I ignored it, which intrigued Lynn so she unceremoniously grabbed my phone and read the text aloud. "Can I take you to dinner? We need to clear the air between us."

"Seriously, Steph wants to take you to dinner, now? Are you going to go?"

"Probably not."

"Why not? If you ignore her, you'll never get the answers you want." Lynn grinned at me and started typing a reply to her as I reached across my desk to try and take my phone back. Sure enough, Lynn dashed out of the chair and ran like a raving lunatic down the hallway, mumbling something incoherently as she went.

When I finally caught up with her, after having to endure the stares of our co-workers along the way to her office, she was holding up my phone in victory.

"You are meeting her on Saturday night at Vintage."

"Fuck, come on...really?" I groaned as I snatched my phone back and looked at it, confirming that I did in fact have plans with Steph at seven o'clock that night. I wondered if Randy was still out of town and if so, why he was taking so bloody long back in Chicago? If I was engaged to Steph, or anyone for that matter, I would have a rough time being away from them for a day and Randy had almost been gone a week.

_That works. Randy is due back in the city Sunday afternoon –Steph_

Well, I guess that answered my question, I thought as I rolled my eyes and Lynn looked at me with curiosity. "I'm gonna go because you are basically forcing me too, but let me just say, I don't like it."

"You don't have to like it; you do need to get closure, though. Sit down, order a beer and ask her what the fuck could have caused her to walk out on you five years ago. That's it...just find out."

Dinner at the Waterfront Grill that night was fine, nothing too exciting, and I found myself eager to go home not long after we had arrived. I sipped on two drinks, Lynn watching my every move like a hawk, which only made me feel more self-conscious. We celebrated our success on the Smith project and thanked our staff for their continued hard work. Thanks to the economy, it was rare that we got such a lucrative contract as the Smith's, but it was only made better by the referrals they had been giving us. The firm was looking good going into the next year, and I could sense the excitement radiating off of Lynn.

The Smith's unexpectedly joined us just after drinks, and thanked our entire staff for their assistance in making their dreams come true. I thought it was a bit much, if you asked me, but what surprised me even more was when the saleswoman from the gallery joined them and looked at me oddly.

"Paul, right?"

"Yeah...Leah?"

"I'm surprised you remembered," she remarked with a genuine smile as my eyes darted between her and Suzanne, and I immediately made the connection. "I see you already know my parents."

"As you can now tell, the firm I work for did the re-design on their Bainbridge Island home," I admitted, a little embarrassingly as Suzanne stood beside her daughter grinning wildly.

"This is the man I was telling you about, Leah. I'm glad to see he finally took my suggestion and called you. When did you guys get together?"

Well now, this was fucking awkward wasn't it? Mrs. Smith had been all over me for almost a month to hook up with her daughter, and sure enough, I had already met her. There was no way I could lie to this woman, because Leah would know immediately, so I steeled my nerves and gave a small smile.

"Actually, I hadn't yet had a chance to call her, but thanks to an odd coincidence, Leah and I met the other day at her gallery."

"Oh well isn't that interesting. I've been trying to meddle and fate has been pulling you two together regardless," Suzanne exclaimed happily as I watched Leah roll her eyes. I knew Suzanne believed in all that astrology crap, but from the look on Leah's face, it seemed that it was one thing she and her mother didn't agree on.

Halfway through dinner, Lynn looked at me from a few seats down and winked knowingly, which caught me off guard.

"So, like I was saying, do you ever go and watch the films down at art museum?" asked Leah casually.

"I used to," I admitted, my voice filled with a bit of regret. Steph and I use to go to the art museum and watch movies whenever we got the chance, but of course I wasn't going to sit there and rehash that with Leah, a woman a barely knew. "I haven't actually been back to the museum in a while. Hell, just going to the park the other day was a big feat for me. I haven't really done much art in a long while."

"Well, that's a shame," Leah said casually.

"It is a shame. Paul used to be a great artist. In fact, I'm sure he still is. He just needs to apply himself," Lynn chimed in as I turned to her quickly and sliced my hand through the air, attempting to silence him. Leah and Suzanne both looked at me in surprise, but I simply shrugged my shoulders and tried to blow the situation off.

"It was nothing, really."

"I'm sure you were a wonderful painter," Leah whispered sincerely as her hand gripped my arm and I recoiled, resting my hand back in my lap instead of on the table. Lynn noticed immediately and her eyes looked concerned, but I simply changed the topic.

"What was it you were saying about the films at the museum? Did you see something good recently?"

"Um…no." Leah hesitated, the words seemingly on the tip of her tongue but unable to come forth. Finally, she opened her mouth and paused briefly before she spoke. "Actually, no…I was going to see if you wanted to go watch _A Place in the Sun_ with me next week. It's playing as part of their Film Noir series. I just thought maybe you would like it."

I looked beside her and breathed a sigh of relief that her mother wasn't paying attention; otherwise Suzanne would be beaming from ear to ear and picking out china patterns or some shit. "What night is it playing on?" I asked, feeling like shit for giving Leah hope when I knew deep down inside that I would cancel on her at the last moment and never see her again. That was the way I worked. I was sure that Leah was a great woman and she was definitely pretty and artistically inclined, but I wasn't ready for a date.

With her or anyone, if I was being brutally honest.

"It's next Wednesday night."

"Can I let you know? I'm not sure of my schedule right now," I lied, knowing that my schedule was free and clear, like it was most nights, unless you counted Saturday night at seven, when I was set to meet Steph.

"Oh yeah…sure. Do you still have my card?" I thought for a moment and then nodded my head, remembering the small card sitting on top of my dresser. "How about I put it in your phone right now, so you don't forget?"

Continuing with my streak of bad luck, as Leah reached for my phone perched on the table, it buzzed with yet another text message. She had already been looking at phone, so I wasn't surprised to see her face fall slightly as she handed it to me.

_Can I call you tonight? – Steph_

Shit.

"What's your number?" I asked Leah, ignoring Steph's text completely and trying to focus on the woman in front of me, though Steph remained in my mind.

I listened as Leah spouted off her number, while I entered it into my phone and wondered why the fuck Steph wanted to call me. I shook my head, realizing that I shouldn't care and I was simply tormenting myself further by thinking about her. So, I stopped. "Let me look at my schedule tomorrow and I'll let you know, alright?"

Leah tensed as she looked at me and gave me a small smile. "Listen, if you are seeing someone…"

"I'm not."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah…she's my cousin's fiancée," I admitted with a hint of frustration, and I could tell from the look on Leah's face that she didn't believe me.

"We're only friends, but I liked you and thought we had a good time tonight and at the gallery. That being said, I refuse to get in the middle of anything, especially if you are unsure of…whatever."

At this point, dinner was winding down and the conversations had become less animated between everyone at the table. I could see Lynn on the phone, most likely with Gordon. I glanced once more at Leah and let out a small sigh.

"Listen," I whispered, not wanting to draw too much attention to us. "I have a past with her, but she's going to marry my cousin. If you want to be my friend, yeah…we can try. It's not like I have many friends to begin with."

"Friends," Leah said without remorse as she offered me her hand and I shook it tentatively. "Check your schedule and let me know. I'd hate to go watch Montgomery Clift by myself."

I didn't answer Steph's text that night, or the next for that matter. When I left the restaurant, I went straight home and climbed into bed, my head aching and unwilling to shut off. It didn't help that when I woke up the next morning, I stumbled into my kitchen to find my mother standing there sorting through my stack of unopened mail and brewing a cup of coffee.

"Don't you ever open your mail, Paul? There is stuff in here postmarked from a month ago."

"Yeah and if you look at the return address, you will see its junk mail."

"It's from Kensington Gallery in San Francisco. They still contact you?" she asked as she reached for two mugs from the cabinet and filled them both up. This was truly the last thing I wanted to deal with on this particular morning. Hell, even Stephanie standing in my kitchen would have been a better option than my mother.

"Only because my mother gave them my forwarding address," I replied coldly.

"I see wasted potential in you Paul. You could have done so much more with your life."

"I live the same life as Lynn, mother. Why don't you want her to change her life?" I asked rudely as I stormed past her and into the living room, throwing myself on the couch. "I get that you are disappointed in me and the direction I've taken my life in, but do you really have to come here and berate me about it."

"First of all, Lynn is living the life she was supposed to, Paul. She's married, expecting a child and successful in her career. She doesn't feel unsatisfied and she's definitely not lonely. You, on the other hand, gave up and you haven't even made an attempt to reach your full potential."

"Thanks for the lecture, I'd like my key back now," I exclaimed frustrated as she simply rolled her eyes and sat down on the couch beside me with her coffee clutched in her hand.

"Paul, I just want the best for you. I don't want you to settle." I groaned in aggravation, as she started again with the usual diatribe I was used to; however she had a new spin to it now. "Don't you want to be happy like Gordon and Lynn or Randy and Stephanie?" I choked on my coffee as my mother looked at me with concern in her eyes. I knew she had the best of intentions when it came to meddling in my life, but I was tired of the same old song and dance she would give me. "They are moving forward with their lives, while you sit stagnant and unmoving."

"I have a date," I blurted out, as my mind went wild, immediately wishing I had kept my mouth shut.

"With who?"

"The daughter of a client."

"Oh Paul, what have I told you about mixing business with pleasure?"

"Do it as often as possible?" I joked sarcastically as my mother took a sip of her coffee and continued to stare me down.

"I just want you happy. If you think this girl can do that for you, then I'll support you," she replied stoically as I watched her eyes dart back to my mail pile and I knew she was wondering about the letter from the Kensington Gallery. "Why do they write to you?"

"The usual; they want more work. In the last letter I actually opened, they explained that they still had one piece of mine from what I sold them back in 2004. They have interested buyers, but they don't want to part with it unless they can get an agreement from me for more work because they think the sale, which they expect will bring in six figures, will increase interest in my work. Apparently, they just don't get that I'm not painting anymore," I explained as my mother looked at me in surprise.

"Can't you just paint something to appease them? Maybe it will reignite your passion to paint again?"

"It just doesn't work like that. I'm sorry."

**I know it can get a little boring without any Stephanie/Paul interaction, but just bear with me. Reviews are greatly appreciated. **


	10. Chapter 10

**If any of you read my bio you know why I haven't been updating, and if you follow me on twitter you know my sister had her baby in her car yesterday. So, while my parents dealt with that I have been stuck at home today and this is what came out of it.**

**Hope you like it.**

**SPOV**

**November 2006**

A week after our sleepover, Paul and I had fallen into a comfortable groove. I would attend my classes, lectures and do as much of my work as possible before heading over to his place at four in the afternoon. He would always be free of any other responsibilities at the time, so it was a perfect time for me to sit and pose for him.

Today, however, was far from perfect. I had been in my apartment, putting some finishing touches on a project I had due about Contemporary American Poetry, when there was a sharp knock against my door. I saved the file on my computer and closed it down, making my way tentatively towards the continued knocking.

Once glance through the peephole and my heart sank. "Good afternoon Steve," I said a little too sweetly as I opened the door and tried to maintain some composure. He looked furious, and was holding a slip of pink paper in his hand. Fuck. This was not a good sign.

"Steph, I've been very patient with you over the past few weeks and I know how difficult it can be to struggle with school and work responsibilities, but it's out of my hands," he said sternly, as he thrust the paper into my hands and I glanced down at the word 'eviction' written across the top. "You have forty eight hours to vacate the apartment. Anything left behind at that point will be thrown out or donated to charity."

"You have got to be kidding me," I yelled, absolutely livid at the fact that I was being evicted. Although if I was being perfectly honest, I knew it was a matter of time.

"I wish I was," he claimed as his eyes flittered around the apartment quickly. "You're close to $2,000 behind in rent and late fees. The owners are refusing any sort of compensation. They just want to get you out and get someone in the apartment who will actually pay for it. There's nothing I can do."

"Come on, Steve. It's not like I'm a horrible tenant. I'm quiet, neat and rarely around. Just give me a few more days," I begged as tears began to fall and I could feel my heart beat racing a hundred miles a minute.

"I wish I could help kid, but this is out of my hands."

With that, Steve walked away as I sank to the floor, my head in my hands as the tears flowed freely down my cheeks. This honestly couldn't have come at a worse possible time for me. Life was actually going well, or was doing well anyways. I had good grades in school and was so close to graduating. I had reignited my passion for my poetry and had discovered a newfound love of art. Plus, I had Paul.

Though parts of my life were well in hand, I couldn't help but freak out. What in the fuck was I going to do without a place to live?

I looked around my small apartment, the place I had called home for so long, and began to panic because I had nowhere to put all of this shit, not that I wanted much of it anyways. I threw myself on the couch and began to plot what I could do.

There was always moving back home with my dad, but that would mean throwing away any plans for finishing my degree and being apart from Paul; neither of which I wanted to do. I could ask Kate if I could stay with her for a bit, but considering how close she and Garrett were, I was sure it was just a matter of time before she moved in with him. Lord knows I couldn't live in my car, the thing was barely working as it was and I just...it wasn't even a consideration.

Thirty minutes later, I found myself perched outside of Paul's building, sitting on the cold cement waiting for him. I had driven my car, though I wasn't sure it would make it back to my place based on the noises it was making. My head was buried in my hands, fighting back tears as heard his car pull up. I didn't even bother to move, but I did manage to compose myself as best I could. I wiped the tears away and hoped to god I didn't look like the complete mess I felt like.

When Paul approached, his hands extending to pull me up, I took them easily. I wanted his comfort so much, but I was unwilling to bare my soul and my hardships to the boy I had known for less than three weeks. Instead, I took a deep breath and followed him into his building, eager to pose for him.

"I'm assuming you are ready to start?" I asked, as I walked through his space and noticed an extremely large blank canvas set up on his easel, and his paint brushes and supplies at the ready.

"I'm good to go if you are," he asked with a salacious grin, as I moved behind the screen and began undressing. I grabbed the silk robe, unsure of how Paul wanted me posed, because in all of our sessions previous, I had never been completely nude in the painting. I couldn't help but wonder, amidst all my other thoughts, if this would be the day. "Where do you want me?"

"That's a loaded question, isn't it?" Paul replied with a grin as I gave him a small smile and walked towards the settee. I sat on the edge and watched as Paul pulled off his shirt, revealing his great build, and I wanted to ask if he had been working out or something, but he moved so confidently towards me, I couldn't say anything. How such a beautiful nineteen year old boy could be so shy and quiet one moment and then so creative and confident the next baffled me. "Can you lie down?"

"On my back or stomach?"

"Stomach." I repositioned myself as he had asked, feeling a bit awkward at first.

"Where you want my hands?" I asked as I felt his hands move leisurely along my shoulder, his fingers gripping the silk of the robe and pulling it down. I shivered; Paul licked his lips. Fuck, this was going to be a rough session if he kept this shit up.

"Reach them up onto the arm of the settee." Once again, I followed suit and Paul slipped his hand beneath the robe, untying the sash and pulling it free. "I changed my mind, can you kneel a bit?"

I moaned wantonly as I felt his hand move against my bare back while I moved myself onto my knees, with my hands grabbing onto the arm of the settee in front of me. Paul moved around the settee in what seemed like slow motion, mumbling under his breath as I remained in place and aroused as hell. I could hear him adjusting lighting and flittering about, but when everything grew silent, I became worried. I lifted my head slightly to find Paul behind me motionless.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he growled as I watched him grab at his hair and pull on it roughly. "Fuck."

"What? Am I in the wrong position?" I asked, concerned, as I watched Paul stalk forward again.

"No...Fuck no. Not at all." Suddenly, I felt his hand against my lower back, sliding backwards along my ass, until his calloused and paint stained fingers found my slit.

"Oh, Jesus," I groaned as my back arched slightly, giving Paul the encouragement he seemed to seek. The verdict was still out regarding whether my man was a virgin or not, because his fingers were doing such delicious things to me, I assumed he had to be experienced. They slid up and down effortlessly through my wetness, flicking and rubbing at my clit as I heard his labored breaths behind me.

"I've never wanted to do something more than I've wanted this," Paul explained through a moan as I felt his thumb rub against my clit roughly as his index finger slipped inside of me. "Not even painting. I had to touch you, Steph."

"Fuck...please...touch me," I purred as I tightened my grip on the settee and Paul moved his fingers in and out of me quicker, deeper, causing my insides to literally flame with desire. I could hear him move about, never once stopping the stellar finger fuck he was giving me and when I heard his zipper lower, I grew even more aroused. God, I wanted him to fuck me.

I wanted him to ram his cock inside me and make me forget about all the shit that had gone on earlier in the day. I wanted his touch to erase the fact that in less than two days time I would be basically homeless and potentially heading home to live with my dad, without my degree and without Paul.

I fought back the tears and tried not to even entertain the possibility of leaving him, and when I looked over my shoulder, I watched as Paul stroked himself before kneeling on the ground behind me.

"Holy fuck", I shouted as I felt his mouth wrap around my clit, sucking on it like a fucking vice as he added a second finger inside me. With one hand he stroked his cock while the other brought me to heights of pleasure that I honestly didn't think I had ever felt before. I could feel my release building, but I desperately wanted him inside me. "Fuck me...please," I begged through clenched teeth as Paul remained silent, except for his moans of pleasure.

I could sense him shift behind me, standing and then rubbing the tip of his cock between soaking wet lips. "Please...god, please fuck me, baby," I choked out as I reached my hand down and began rubbing my own clit furiously.

"Fuck, that is so hot...watching you play with yourself...keep going," Paul urged as I glanced back and saw him continue to fuck his own hand with abandon. I fell over the edge and came screaming as he thrust his fingers back inside me, pushing them as deep inside me as he could.

It was with a groan mere seconds later, that Paul came all over my ass, moaning my name and panting breathlessly. I, however, was left frustrated.

Sure, he had given me one of the best orgasms of my life, but I had wanted him inside me. I wanted that connection with him, because if I couldn't find an answer to my problem soon, it could be the only time we could be together. As Paul stepped back and tucked his cock back inside his jeans, I stood and awkwardly made my way into his bathroom, tears streaming down my face when I didn't want them to.

"Fuck," he shouted as he followed, banging on the door as I locked it behind me and proceeded to clean myself up before sinking to the floor and pulling my knees into me.

Why was it that nothing simple could ever happen to me? Between my parents' divorce, my shit relationship with my mother, and my inability to hold a job or manage my own finances, I was fucking drowning. My head was completely underwater and I couldn't see the surface. I needed him for things to make sense, because nothing ever seemed to.

"Steph, what's wrong?" he urged, his voice sad and pathetic, because he was clearly upset and unsure of what had just gone down. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No. Just give me a bit of time," I replied through my sniffles as I heard a thump against the wall behind me. I cleaned up from our escapades and then sat on the edge of the tub, my heart sinking further and further in my chest.

"I'm not leaving until you come out and tell me what I did wrong."

"You did nothing wrong," I cried as I heard his fist bang heavily against the door.

"Bullshit."

Regardless of how I felt about the turmoil in my life, I felt horrible that Paul was currently so conflicted. He really had done nothing wrong other than _not_ fuck me, but he must have had his reasons, and I probably would have had a freak out if he did have sex with me, about something else anyways. It really was a shit situation I had put him in, so I stood up with the robe wrapped loosely around me and opened the door a bit, deciding to open up to him a little bit.

"I got evicted," I said simply, pushing the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand, trying to keep the robe closed with the other. I had no idea where the hell the sash had ended up during out little escapade.

"You have got to be kidding me, right?"

"I wish."

"Come on, let's go to the living room and talk about this." Paul grabbed my hand in his and led me down the hallway. "You had me seriously freaked out."

Paul took me over to the couch to lie down, as he moved back to the kitchen to get me a glass of water. "Do you have anything stronger?"

"Uh...no. I can't exactly buy booze." Paul explained anxiously, before he came back and sat beside me, sweeping me into his arms as he stroked my hair softly. "Why did you...react that way?"

"Right before I came over here, I got the news about my apartment. I felt like shit but I was trying to find a way to solve my problem. Next thing you know, we're enjoying ourselves on the settee and let me just say, you can do that anytime you want, baby," I explained as Paul kissed my temple. "I just wanted more...I wanted to feel so much more with you in that moment. God, I wanted you to fuck me so hard and just make me forget that in two days I could be homeless."

"I'm sorry, Steph. I'm just not..."

"No need to apologize, it was completely my fault. I don't want to pressure you into sex or anything like that."

"So...how did you get evicted, anyways?"

"I didn't pay my rent."

"What happened to the money I gave you for your first sessions?"

"I used half to pay some back rent and then a bit more to pay bills. I've been living on PB&J for the past week since I refuse to pay for groceries."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Paul asked, as his finger slipped under my chin and he turned my head to face him. "I owe you at least another thousand for the last few sessions we've had. I'll cut you a check today and we can take it back to your place. Hell, I'll pay the balance of what you owe and you'll be even on your rent."

I rested my head back against his shoulder and breathed him in, his scent relaxing me immediately. "They refuse to do anything. Steve, the landlord, told me that the owners refuse to accept anything. I've been missing payments for far too long and I owe them over two grand. I don't have a whole lot of friends I can move in with and moving back with my dad isn't an option because then I will have to drop out of school and leave you."

"What about me?"

"What about you?" I asked, confused.

"Well...neither of us wants you to drop out of college and move home, right?" I nodded slowly. "We just found each other and I'm not particularly ready to let you go yet. Plus, you can't live in your car. Do you have anything saved for first and last month's rent of a new place?"

"Paul, I have $7.90 in my bank account right now."

"I'll take that as a no," he said with a small laugh. "So yeah, as I was saying...you could move in here. It would certainly make my painting easier. Anytime we are both free I could paint you. I'd still continue to pay you, of course."

I turned to straddle Paul and looked at him incredulously.

"When did we meet?"

"Three weeks ago, give or take a few days."

"And you want me to move in with you?"

"Sure, why not?" he asked, his youthful excitement clear in his voice and eyes as he stared at me with a grin on his face, his eyes darting down to my chest.

"Can I help pay the rent?" It was the least I could do, even though I was basically giving him back his money, which seemed kind of stupid in retrospect.

"No. There's no rent. I own this place. I bought it with the money I earned from some stuff I sold while I was in high school," Paul replied simply as my eyes grew wide. He didn't even pay rent? Jesus, this kid was ten times more financially responsible than I was. "Where did you think I was getting the money to pay you to model for me?"

"I honestly never thought about it," I answered, as Paul's hands gripped my hips and he pulled me closer to him. I'd be lying through my teeth if I said I couldn't feel his hard on trapped between us. It was hard not to move against him when we were trying to have a major, and potentially life changing conversation, especially since I was still desperate to be fucked by him.

"Listen, I get that we're new to this whole dating thing and that it could be hard to live together, but it could also be worth it. It would make finishing my art project easier, plus I wanted to talk to you about modeling more for me...I was thinking of doing an exhibit based on you."

"You what?" I shouted, as Paul froze beneath me. He wanted to continue to paint me and work an exhibit around it? Was he insane? "That's just...nuts. No one wants to see pictures of me."

"That's where you are wrong." Paul kissed me swiftly on the lips before continuing. I could taste myself on his lips, and swept my tongue across my upper lip as Paul groaned. "I took a few photos of the pieces I finished, the first two we did together, and showed them to my advisor who loved them. He was actually the one who suggested the show, and I happen to think it's a great idea. Unless of course you don't like posing for me anymore."

Paul winked at me and I couldn't help my reaction, which was to grab his face in my hands and kiss him roughly on the lips. His hands threaded through my hair and pulled me closer to him as my body finally relented and I moved my hips against him, desperate for the friction between us.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked, panting breathlessly when we pulled apart. However, from the grin plastered on Paul's face, I could tell the question was moot. He was in this, but was I?

"I'm positive, but you can think about it. I mean...how long did you say you had until you had to vacate?"

"Forty-eight hours."

"Well...I guess you should think about it tonight huh?" Paul remarked with a sly grin as I kissed him once more and I ground my bare pussy against his denim covered cock. "I think you should behave, baby. In the meantime, get back into position and drop the robe completely. I need to paint you."

**Reviews? Please…**


	11. Chapter 11

**This chapter is for dianalynnborbe on twitter because of her kind words. :-) Even though I have tons of homework this weekend and will probably regret this. Sorry for any mistakes, I'm trying to get this done in a hurry.**

**PPOV**

**November 2011**

I walked into Vintage just after seven on Saturday night and I felt beyond anxious. My palms were sweaty, I was incredibly warm. As my eyes slowly moved about the restaurant looking for Steph; I had an overwhelming urge to leave, not unlike she had done to me several years earlier.

Yeah, it would be callous and downright rude, but at this point, I just didn't care. I wanted the night over and I wanted Steph out of my life. She was with Randy, regardless of what she claimed she wanted, and I wanted nothing to do with either of them. At least, I wanted nothing to do with Steph while she was with him.

I was being harsh, but I didn't care. I went through a lot of shit after she left me and I would be damned if I was stupid enough to let it happen again. Plus, Lynn would kick my ass if I went backwards in my progress, I was sure of it.

I steeled my nerves and finally set my eyes on Steph, who was sitting at the bar looking much too good for a dinner out with her fiancé's cousin. She looked like she was going out on a date, so before I flew off the handle at her for assuming something was going on, when it wasn't, I reminded myself that Vintage had a dress code and figured that was the reason she was dressed up. I didn't want Steph to think that this was something more than it was. As far as I was concerned, the quicker I got the dinner over with, the happier I would be. Hell, if we could get everything over after the first drink, I would be good to go.

"Paul," Steph said as she approached me and opened her arms as though she was going to give me a hug. I froze and she sensed my hesitance and lowered her arms with a small frown on her face. In the past, I hated the mere thought of her being upset, but at that moment, I felt very little.

"Do we have a table reserved?" I asked coldly, as I looked anywhere but directly at Steph.

"Yeah, I have reservations. I'll just let the hostess know," she said timidly as she slipped past me and headed towards the front of the restaurant. I stared at the door once more, contemplating my escape, but I decided against it. I could hear Lynn's voice in my head insisting that I take the chance to get the answers I needed to know.

Where did she go?

Why did she leave?

Did I do something?

Did I not love her enough?

I didn't know where to start I had so many questions I wanted answers to. Steph called out my name, pulling me from my thoughts, and I followed her down the aisle to our table. After sitting, and with our menus perched in front of us, Steph and I looked at each other awkwardly.

"Thanks, for agreeing to meet with me…again."

"You can blame my sister for that. She was the one who agreed to come, not me."

"Oh…" Steph looked down at her menu and opened it quickly, using it to cover up her face. I reached my hand up and pushed the menu down until I could see that Steph's eyes were rimmed with red. Fuck.

"Let's start over…for tonight. You look good," I replied simply. "How about we order and get that shit out of the way." Steph nodded her head and we both looked over our menus silently until our waitress appeared a few awkward minutes later and we finally ordered.

"Your mom has been a big help in finding a new house," Steph explained, clearly wanting to change the topic.

"She's good at what she does," I mused, thinking about all the late hours my mother would spend cultivating her career when I was growing up. My father was really the one who encouraged my art, but my mother certainly encouraged the sale of my art – at the highest price. She felt the same way about selling a home that she did about my art – sell it to the highest bidder. It was probably the only reason why she mentioned the gallery the other day.

"I've noticed that. I um…I also met Gordon the other day." I looked at Steph with a weird expression on my face as she tore at the cocktail napkin in front of her. "Your mother was taking me to lunch between seeing two houses and we ran into Gordon. He was…interesting."

"Let me guess, he threatened you somehow?" I asked, curiously. Gordon was a protector at his finest. She was particularly possessive of Lynn and I, and I could only imagine how it would be once he and Lynn finally had a child. I would hate to be anyone that wronged his family – which was exactly the situation Steph was in.

"Well…yeah, but he was really nice in the presence of your mother."

"That sounds like Gordon."

"I know he meant well, but talking to him was certainly enlightening. When your mother went to the washroom, he was a little blunter with me."

"Oh really?"

"He, in no uncertain terms, let me know how tough things were for you after I left," Steph admitted as our waitress set our drinks down and I quickly took a big gulp of mine. I was beginning to find myself furious with Gordon for sticking his nose where it didn't belong. My past was not his story to tell. "Don't be mad at Gordon. I maybe instigated him a bit to get information."

"You could have asked me."

"Would you have been honest and told me?" Steph questioned, quirking her eyebrow at me.

"No, probably not."

"He was frank with me and told me how you fell apart and got involved with some shady people from your art program. Gordon also filled me in on how Lynn basically took care of you for those first few months and that since they are trying to have a child, he doesn't want to see the same thing happen." I groaned, thinking again about Joanie and the trouble I had gotten into thanks to my association with her. She was right though, Lynn had been my rock. I couldn't even bear to think about what would have happened to me if I hadn't had her around. "I think Gordon is just worried about you. He doesn't want me in your life because he doesn't want a repeat of what happened last time."

"Finally, Gordon and I agree on something," I replied through clenched teeth as Steph looked at me with wide eyes. "Steph, it's taken me a while to get over you and past what happened between us. You have to admit, it's stupid of me to want to revisit that."

"I get that, I do…I just…I think if we could talk about what went on in my life back then…maybe…"

"Listen, I know you want to have this big talk and tell me everything that had gone on over the past few years or whatever, thinking that your explanation will justify the fact that you left me without a word and never once answered any of the ten million calls I made to your cell phone, but, I'm not sure it will."

"Paul…"

"No, let me finish. Five years ago, my life completely revolved around you and my art. Though I'm sure some people would have deemed it unhealthy, I didn't care. I wanted you in my bed and my heart, and I wanted to be successful with my art. Then you left, and all of my art reminded me of you, so I lashed out. I ruined the paintings I was supposed to be putting in the show. Fuck, some say I ruined my life and my potential, but I didn't care."

"I'm sorry." I nodded my head slowly, because I could tell from the remorseful look on her face that she was sincere, but I couldn't fall into any trap. I needed to know why she left.

"I'm sure you are sorry, Steph. However, it doesn't erase the fact that you up and left me with no explanation whatsoever. I'm really hoping that you can explain everything to me so that we can move on…on our own."

Steph took a huge drink from her white wine and looked down as she sat it back on the table. She was about to say something when her mouth fell open and she turned white as a ghost.

"Stephanie, what on earth are you doing here?" I heard Randy's distinctive voice ask as I turned and watched him stalk towards our table. Fuck, this wasn't good.

"What are you doing here, Randy?" Steph asked as she stood up and gave him a very awkward hug while his dark eyes glanced down upon me, clearly furious that I was having dinner with his fiancée. Randy would not take this lightly, though he had a tendency to kill people with kindness before stabbing them in the back.

"Imagine my surprise when I came back early from Chicago to find our hotel room empty. Luckily, the doorman remembered that that he hailed you a cab here, but he didn't mention you going with a guest." Randy urged Steph to sit back down and he grabbed a nearby chair and sat close beside her, leaving virtually no room for her to breath.

"Steph and I ran into each other while waiting for dinner," I lied, as I saw Steph give me a small smile of gratitude. Randy's eyes were trained on me while his arm remained possessively draped over Steph's shoulder. "I figured since she was your fiancée, you would probably prefer if she had dinner with your cousin than by herself. I was trying to be…"

"Hospitable?" Randy asked through clenched teeth.

"Sure. My mother raised me to always be kind to women, especially family," I grinned as Randy shook his head briefly and then raised his hand, motioning for a waitress to join us. Clearly he planned to have everyone at his beck and call…as per usual.

"I'm so sorry," I saw Steph mouth to me as I gave her a tiny smile and nodded. When the waitress came over and took Randy's order, I asked her to bring me another drink and box up my dinner up to go. There was no way I wanted to stay and deal with this train wreck for too long. Unfortunately, Randy thought otherwise.

"Come on, Paul. Join us for dinner or is this like a thing with you? You can't be bothered to stay and enjoy a main course with your family?" Randy questioned, his voice teeming with anger.

"I was planning to get my dinner to go when I first arrived, but I thought Steph would appreciate the company," I lied easily. "Now that you are here, I'm redundant, don't you think?"

"Hardly," Randy replied snidely. "It's been so long since I've touched base with you. I thought it would be nice if I seized the opportunity to find out what you have been doing since you graduated high school. Aunt Patricia told me you were in art school. Did you graduate?"

"Nope, I dropped out," I answered as I took a sip of my drink, finishing it.

"I can't say I'm surprised. You never did have the ambition that Lynn did. That is why her career is so successful and she's built himself a nice life, even if she had to settle for Gordon" I bristled at his comment of Gordon, knowing full well he had only met him on one occasion and he loathed him for his attitude towards Lynn and me.

"I met Gordon the other day," Steph added softly as Randy looked down at her, surprised that she had said anything. "Patricia and I ran into her between house showings. He was very nice."

Randy huffed and yanked his drink off the servers' tray the moment she arrived at the table. "I think I know Gordon a little bit better than you do, Stephanie."

"I know him better than both of you do, since he's my close friend and brother-in-law. I also don't think he would appreciate us discussing him."

"Fine. He's Lynn's problem anyways. I don't know what the hell she was thinking when she married Gordon," Randy declared, his voice clearly disgusted. "Lynn's much too independent for my taste; he needs to ring her in."

"And what is your taste?" I asked Randy, dying to know more about the dynamic between him and Steph. It was so odd how she just sat back around him and wasn't anything like the woman I knew. Almost like she was subservient to him. Oh god, I hope they didn't have some kinky shit going on like that.

"I'm sitting beside her. Stephanie embodies everything I've ever looked for in a woman. I couldn't have gotten any luckier than I did when she agreed to be my wife," Randy stated firmly as he tightened his grip on Steph, who was attempting to sip her drink and ended up spilling some on herself. "Fuck Stephanie. How can you be so clumsy? Go clean up in the washroom."

Steph nodded softly and stood up, tears forming in her eyes, as she practically ran to the bathroom. "You can be such a douchebag, do you know that? She spilled a bit of wine, that was all."

"Paul, Stephanie knows how I am and she accepts it. Hell, she appreciates it. If I wasn't telling her what to do most days, she would be lost." Randy grinned salaciously at me and I immediately tensed up. "Though she is a passionate woman, particularly in the bedroom, she needs to know that my word is law."

I fought back the cringe when Randy mentioned Stephanie in his bedroom and countered his sexist ways. "You do realize this isn't early mankind right? You sound like a fucking caveman about ready to bash her over the head and drag her back to your cave."

"I'm a very busy and important person, Paul. My life is structured and Stephanie realizes this. She worked with me so she saw firsthand the late hours I would keep and she could appreciate my need to fuck at eleven at night or four in the morning. She is there for _my_ every whim and desire. This means whenever, wherever, with whomever or whatever I want."

I didn't even want to consider the true meaning behind his sentence, because he implied clearly that Steph was basically used by him sexually. She was hardly his equal in their relationship and the thought that he might share her with others made me want to throw up on his lap. Why the fuck was she so complacent with everything and how could he consider this to be appropriate?

I was about to yell at him for his attitude and behavior when Steph sat back down beside Randy and he leaned over to whisper in her ear, causing her to blush. Fuck.

"So, Paul…where were we?" Randy asked simply. "Oh yes…women. Are you seeing anyone?"

"No, not at the moment," I replied, my mind thinking about Leah briefly.

"I saw that hesitation that means you are dating someone. Well, maybe date is too specific of a term. You must have ladies all over you, right?"

"Randy, this is hardly appropriate," Steph implored, looking completely mortified, as Randy glared at her and she became quiet again.

"No. There is no one."

"You're not gay, are you?" he asked, his voice snide and accusing.

"No Randy…I'm not gay either." I looked Steph right in the eye as I spoke my next words. "I dated a girl back in college and she broke my heart. After she disappeared, my life took a downward spiral, which was why I dropped out of college. I started hanging out with some bad people and spent way too much time using random drugs and abusing my body. Lynn kicked some sense into me, which is why I work for her. I owe her my life."

Steph looked at me in surprise, clearly unaware of my issues with drugs, but Randy just looked disappointed. Thankfully, the waitress arrived at that moment with my dinner all boxed up, just like I had asked.

"Thanks for the insightful conversation," I declared as I grabbed my dinner box and stood up. Though I had come to the dinner at the insistence of Lynn and to get answers, I realized that I didn't need them. Steph wasn't the girl I had been in love with and she thought she deserved Randy; she had to dig herself out of the hole she was in, like I had done with my life years earlier.

"You're leaving?" Randy questioned rudely.

"Yeah, I've had enough of your bullshit and her complacence. Good luck, Steph. You deserve better." With that I walked out of the restaurant with my head held high and my pasta in my hands.

I was ready to move on with my life.


	12. Chapter 12

**SPOV**

**November 2006**

"Did you leave the sink behind?" Steph asked from behind the wall of boxes that filled his living room of the loft. Sure, there were still art supplies and canvases all over the place, but when you combined that with my stuff, it looked like a bomb went off.

"Hardy-har-har," I replied with a roll of my eyes as I opened another box of clothes and hauled it into the bedroom. With the help of Paul, I managed to get all of the stuff I wanted to take with me out of the apartment before my forty-eight hours were up. Sure, the apartment wasn't exactly clean when we left and there were a few larger pieces of furniture that I left behind, but I got everything I truly needed.

I had probably taken a little longer than I should have to decide whether or not to move in with Paul, but in the end everything seemed to be working out for the best. Though considering I wasn't exactly going through my boxes quickly and they were scattered throughout the loft, I couldn't help but feel like Paul was going to reconsider his offer to let me stay. After all, he couldn't really paint until I got most of my stuff squared away.

Paul had a spare room, but it was filled with his supplies and canvases, so even though I tried to get him to let me stay there, he told me I would basically be sleeping in his bed every night anyway, so having my stuff in the other room would be a moot point.

I hated when he was right.

I dropped the box onto the bed and began unpacking things into the closet or the dresser, where Paul had made ample room for my clothes. With each item put away I couldn't help the smile that came across my face. Paul walked in a moment later with another box and dropped it beside mine on the bed. "More clothes," he declared with a kiss to my temple as he walked away.

For the next two hours I tried to get as much stuff put away as I could with Paul's help, but I could tell he was getting antsy; Paul needed to paint.

It had been almost three days since I last posed for him and I was slowly getting used to the 'tells' he had for when he needed to paint. Right now he was pacing, that was a dead giveaway. If he cursed or seemed aggravated, which was usual for Paul, then he was about to reach his breaking point.

"Jesus fuck, Steph…where in the hell am I going to put all these books?" he asked as he dropped a box in the spare room with a loud thud. "Did you buy out the local Barnes and Noble when it closed?"

"Yeah, with the money tree in backyard," I replied sarcastically as Paul came in behind me and swatted me on my ass.

"Smartass."

"You like my ass," I answered playfully with a wiggle of my hips as Paul gripped his hands on waist and held me still, his hips pressing against me.

"Mmmm…I do love your ass, baby," he said with a kiss to my neck as I shuddered slightly. "I'd love to see that ass…so I could paint it."

Luckily for Paul, I couldn't deny him anything. I agreed to pose for him provided he gave me five minutes to finish putting the last box away. I loved the genuine smile that crossed his face as he kissed me quickly and then darted out of the room to get his supplies in place. Once I closed the drawer, the last box of clothes emptied into its new home, I determined that since we lived together and were dating, there was no reason for me to try and seem like a prude, so I stripped out of my clothes and made my way into the living room.

"Steph…are you ready?" Paul called out as he turned around and found me standing at the entrance to the hallway in nothing but my birthday suit. "Fuck …are you ever ready."

"Where do you want me, baby?" I asked as I walked with a sashay towards the settee, but was caught off guard to see a single black stool against a white sheet backdrop. "I'm guessing it's not in my usual spot huh?"

"Well, right now I wouldn't mind you on our bed." Paul laughed as he came up behind me and wrapped his arms tightly around my midsection, peppering soft kisses along my shoulder and neck. His hips moved roughly against my ass as I felt his hardness beneath the fabric of his pants. Though part of me wanted to bend over and let him take me, the fear of leaving him that I had last time now gone, I knew that it wasn't the right time.

"You need to paint."

"Don't remind me, Steph." I squirmed out of his grasp and made my way over to the stool as Paul let out a huge sigh. "Okay, sit on the stool, and your feet resting on the rungs beneath you."

I did as he asked, but Paul wasn't completely satisfied, because within seconds he was repositioning me until I was in place properly. "This won't be comfortable for a 2 hour session, you know."

"I know, babe," he said with a small grin. "I'm going to snap a few photos once I have you in place. Then I can work on the painting while you are sleeping or in class." I nodded slowly as Paul positioned my hair to fall over one shoulder, his fingers ghosting down my arm slowly as he went. He reached to a nearby table and grabbed a large swatch of pink silk and handed it to me, asking me to hold it between my legs. I don't know if he was aiming for some sort of symbolism perhaps, but I felt odd and decided that even though Paul most likely had a vision in mind for the painting, I wasn't comfortable with it.

"What's the point of the fabric?"

"What do you mean?" Paul asked, his voice confused as he went towards the table by his canvas.

"I mean…does it have a point? Are you trying to convey something in the painting by having me hold it?" Paul grabbed his camera and took a few quick pictures of me with the fabric between my legs. "Or are you purposely trying to cover me up?"

"No," Paul stated vehemently as I stared him down and he gave me a small frown. "Fine, yes…I want most of you covered up." This kind of pissed me off. A few hours into living together and we were already having issues separating our personal relationship from our business one. I was frustrated and let Paul know it.

"If I wasn't your girl, but rather just a paid model, would you have me hold this fabric between my legs?" Paul shook his head and I dropped the fabric to the floor. "We're painting now…I'm the model, it's best for your art if you remember this."

"I hate it when you are right."

"The feeling is mutual," I replied as Paul snapped a few more pictures of me without the fabric and then stepped back to his canvas to begin painting. I couldn't help but feel a sigh of relief course through my body knowing that Paul wasn't holding back anymore. I could understand where he was coming from, being that we were in a relationship, but he couldn't sacrifice his art for me – I wouldn't let him.

The first hour of our session went by effortlessly, with a bit of flirty banter between us, but it stopped the moment my cell phone began ringing on the coffee table.

"Do you want me to get that?" Paul moved towards the phone and glanced down at the screen. "It's your mom."

"Don't answer it," I said stoically as I tried to remain focused on my position while my mind began wondering why the hell she was calling so soon after our last conversation. She had done her job for her beloved Marcus and confirmed that I wasn't dead, so I couldn't figure out why she was trying to get in touch with me again.

Paul stood in front of his canvas watching me as the phone finished ringing. He put his brush onto the canvas again and I felt my body relax knowing that we were going to paint again. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

"So…tell me about your mom," Paul said quietly as I tensed all over again. "Why do you hate her so much?"

"She left my dad and they got divorced," I admitted reluctantly as I saw Paul move from behind the canvas to look at me again.

"A lot of parents get divorced, Steph. It doesn't mean you should hate her."

"Paul, my mother is as selfish as they come. She left my father only once I had moved out and gone to college, because she wanted me to have a proper upbringing with two parents who loved each other. Only she never really loved my dad and stayed until she found someone better."

"I'm sorry," he said genuinely as I shook my head slowly.

"It's not your fault."

"I know, but I can still be upset that she put you in such a shitty situation."

"I just don't get why she would stay with my father, you know?"

"Yeah, I know, Steph," he replied, stroking my hair softly, soothing me.

"He could have moved on by now, maybe even dated or married someone else. Hell, I could have had a half brother or sister, but she was too selfish. I find it revolting that she thought that staying with my father, who she didn't love, was for my benefit."

"It wasn't. You're right."

"I'm trying so hard not to be my mother, you know?" I explained as I watched Paul nod his head. "Because she couldn't be bothered to admit to my father she didn't love him, he spent the next twenty years building his life around her. He could have found someone else and been happy with his life, but now he's just…he's not the same man he was. My mother, meanwhile, is living in a luxury mansion in Chicago with her new lawyer husband, Marcus. She showers me with money and phone calls when it's convenient for her to be in my life. I hate her for ruining my fathers' life and not giving him, or us, a chance at a better life."

Paul closed the distance between us and wrapped his arms around me tightly as I cried gently into his shoulder. "You deserve so much better than her."

I nodded softly against him as he kissed my temple and pulled back from me, wiping my tears with his paint covered hands. Paul began to laugh softly and I looked at him confused.

"I just got brown paint under your eyes."

"It doesn't matter," I replied as I moved closer to Paul, pressing myself against his chest as he wrapped his arms around me and hugged tightly. I felt at ease and cared for, something I hadn't felt for a very long time. I felt Paul move back from me slightly and disappointment coursed through me, until he leaned forward and cupped my face, kissing me tenderly. God his lips felt so fucking soft.

I lifted my hands to his biceps and then dragged them up his arms to his hair, pulling him down to me in an attempt to deepen the kiss. Paul's hands slipped from my face, down my sides to my hips, which he held at a distance from his body for a brief moment. I knew there was no way he would be able to resist the fact that I was completely naked and clearly wanting.

I hitched my leg up to his hip and his hand slipped up the back of my thigh, so close to the promise land. "St-eph," Paul groaned as I sucked his bottom lip between my teeth and continued to kiss him desperately. I could sense the hesitation from him and it was the last thing I wanted.

Fuck, I needed this connection with him.

"Take me to our bed," I urged as I kissed my way down his face to his neck, listening to him groan in arousal. "I want to be yours in every sense of the word."

Paul practically growled in response and before I could try and convince him again, he had turned me around, my back pressed up against the nearest wall as he kissed, nibbled and sucked his way from my lips to my chest. My entire body was on fire, my skin flush with desire, as Paul's hands lifted my leg up onto his hip once more and he forced his erection where I wanted him the most.

"You are the most beautiful woman…"

With one hand gripping my hip, the other slipped down between our bodies and he could feel just how excited I was.

"You deserve the moon and the stars. You should be read poetry in bed while I worship every soft, luscious inch of your body." Paul's declarations did nothing to quench the fire that was building inside of me; if anything, it made it worse. "Your body is the most tempting canvas, baby."

"Paint me," I replied, a hint of anxiety to my voice as I watched Paul slip his fingers into some blue paint on the table beside us and then drag them between my breasts, leaving a trail behind.

"What is your favorite erotic poem?" Steph asked me as his fingers slid around to cup my ass, leaving more paint behind in their wake.

"Carnal apple, Woman filled, burning moon by Neruda," I replied breathily as Paul's lips kissed me softly, his hands covering my breasts, the blue paint feeling cool against my overheated skin.

"Do you know it?" I nodded. "Recite it for me."

"Carnal apple, Woman filled, burning moon," I repeated the first line of the poem as Paul's fingers danced lightly against my sides, causing me to shudder in anticipation. "Dark smell of seaweed, crush of mud and light. What secret knowledge is clasped between your pillars?"

"Mmmm…." Paul moaned as he kneeled before me and spread my legs apart, his fingers moving against my inner thighs. After a moment of exploring, Paul's hands, which seemed to have very little paint left on them, lifted one of my legs onto his shoulder. "You smell delicious and I know you taste heavenly. Keep reciting the poem, Steph."

"What primal night does man touch with his senses?"

Paul slipped two fingers between my slick lips and moved his fingers to my clit, rubbing it in gentle circles. I couldn't help but thread my fingers through his hair and hold on, trying not to yank out his hair.

"Ay, Love is a journey through waters and stars, through suffocating air, sharp tempests of grain. Love is a war of ligh… lightning," I stuttered as I felt Paul's tongue tentatively lap at the wetness between my legs.

Though Paul was less experienced than I was, he certainly wasn't lacking. He was eager and attentive, something other lovers hadn't been. Breath moans fell from my mouth, causing me to forget the poetry when I looked down and saw Paul shed his inhibitions and begin ravishing me with his mouth.

"Don't stop."

"And two bodies…oh god…ruined by a single sweetness," I stated as one of my hands flew out and gripped the edge of the table to my left, needing the support. "Kiss by kiss I cover your tiny infinity." I gasped as I felt Paul kiss my clit over and over again before tugging the sensitive nub between his teeth, nibbling roughly as I moaned loudly, my arousal rising with each touch from him.

"Your margins, your rivers, your diminutive villages and a…oh god...genital fire, transformed by de…light," I moaned as Paul slipped two fingers inside of me and began pushing and pulling, his movements making loud noises from the overwhelming amount of arousal coating his fingers.

"Keep going, beautiful," Paul urged before he leaned his face back towards my pussy, his tongue flicking my clit repeatedly as I struggled to remain upright, let alone to recount poetry.

"Ah, fuck," I cursed as I felt Paul bite down around my clit and I knew he was serious about me continuing. However, I wasn't sure I could get the rest of the poem out without release, so I hurried my way through it. "Slips through the narrow channels of blood, to precipitate a nocturnal carnation…oh god…"

Paul's fingers pushed deeper, stroked harder and his lips remained wrapped around my clit as I felt my body begin to shake in ecstasy.

"To be, and be nothing…but light in the dark," I shouted as my body clamped down around his fingers and I screamed out in the most overwhelming orgasm I had ever had.

I felt boneless.

As I struggled to catch my breath, Paul released my leg and helped me stand on both feet again, before sucking his fingers into his mouth, tasting myself like his life depended on it. A moment later, a small laugh bubbling up from inside of him as I crashed to the floor in front of him, completely spent.

"The sexiest and most erotic thing I have ever seen in my life is you as you come," Paul said genuinely as he pulled me towards him, wrapping his strong arms around me as I rested my head on his chest. "If I could see that face, as you scream out in pleasure, for the rest of my days, I would be the happiest man on earth."

"For the rest of our days, Paul."

**A/N: I know this one is kind of boring, but I had to have a filler chapter. **


	13. Chapter 13

**PPOV**

**November 2011**

When I left the restaurant on Saturday night, I hightailed it over to Lynn and Gordon's apartment, not even bothering to call them in advance. Lynn had forced me into the dinner in the first place, so I didn't care what she was doing, I needed to talk to her.

It wasn't overly late, just after 9:30, when I knocked sharply on their door until it opened, leaving me face to face with a furious looking Gordon. Luckily for me, when he took in my appearance, he was quick to welcome me.

"What's going on?"

"Your idiot wife made me go out to dinner with Steph tonight," I admitted as I tossed the food box onto the counter and threw myself onto a plush armchair with a thud. "It was an even bigger disaster than our dinner with the family."

"I didn't know that was possible," Gordon mused as he sat on the couch and looked at me with sympathy. "From what Lynn tells of it, Steph was basically a robot, your mother couldn't stop gushing about Randy and you drank your weight in liquor. Sounds like a fun evening for all. When are you guys scheduled for an appearance on Dr. Phil?"

"Very funny," I replied snidely as Gordon shot me a humorous glance just as Lynn walked into the room.

"Leftovers? Can I?"

"Go ahead; I couldn't be bothered to eat."

"Was it that bad? What did she have to say?" Lynn questioned as she grabbed a fork and began to shovel my dinner into her mouth with abandon. How did she always have such a huge appetite? Then again, based on how easy going she and Gordon were being, I wasn't sure I wanted to know how she had worked up her appetite.

"Well, it started out awkward, like I expected. We talked about random shit and she mentioned meeting you, Gordon."

"Yeah, I was worried she would mention me when Lynn said you guys were doing dinner. For the record, I was against the dinner. If I had a chance, I would have talked some sense into my wife before she forced you into it," Gordon said sincerely as I nodded my head at her in understanding. "She didn't say I was mean to her did she? I wanted to put the fear of god into her, not make her pee herself or something."

"She was fine, actually. She got where you were coming from, with the overprotective thing, so she's not mad at you. Anyways, we were finally starting to discuss things and get to the heart of the matter when… "

"She professed her undying love for you?" Lynn asked with a mouthful of pasta.

"No… Randy fucking showed up."

"I thought he was out of town?" Gordon asked curiously as I shook my head, still frustrated with him showing up and ruining my chances of knowing the truth about Stephanie's disappearance. Though I was ready to move past everything, I was certain that not knowing would gnaw at me in the future. I couldn't let it ruin my life though.

"Nope. He came back early and the doorman told him that he hailed Steph a cab to Vintage, so he showed up. Needless to say, I had to lie through my teeth about why Steph and I were having dinner. He then proceeded to be an asshole and when Steph spilled her drink, he forced her to go to the bathroom and clean up," I said, the anger rolling off me as I thought again about the things he had implied. "He is scum and I wish I knew why she was with him."

"This girl certainly leaves us all with a lot of questions, doesn't she?" Lynn asked as she finished my dinner and sat down beside her husband. "Randy is an ass, that's clear. I don't get why Steph is with him either, especially since he treats her like complete shit. But really, what can we do about it?"

"Didn't she tell you she wanted to leave him?" Gordon questioned as he looked at me intently. I nodded, wanting to know what he was getting at. "Well, maybe if she had some options, leaving would be easier for her. I mean, I don't support the girl, but I also don't think anyone deserves to get the treatment Randy gives her."

"And what do you propose I do?"

"Well, you do have a loft sitting unused that she could move into. Plus Lynn, didn't you say you need someone to replace Candace the receptionist when she goes on Maternity Leave next month? It's not much, but it's a start at a new life for her."

"Why are you being so nice?" Lynn wondered, as she stared at her husband with uncertainty.

"Let's just say, if I was in her shoes, I would want your help. Even if I had done you wrong, I would do anything I could to get out of the situation I was in."

"But that's just it…why does she keep going house hunting with Mom?" I questioned as Gordon smiled knowingly.

"She has seen over two dozen houses, Paul. Perhaps she's just refusing to make a decision or doesn't give a shit since she wants to leave him anyways. I think she's just delaying the inevitable."

"So…what do you suggest I do?" I asked of Lynn and Gordon. They had always been nothing but brutally honest with me and I needed their support more than anything at that moment. "Do I volunteer to help her or turn a blind eye?"

"What do you want to do, Paul?" Lynn asked casually. I shrugged my shoulders and looked at my sister and her husband intently.

"I have no idea."

"Well, think about it. You don't owe her anything, so you don't need to help her. I'd just like to think that you would help someone in need, no matter who it is," Gordon said sweetly as I ran my hands through my hair and tugged relentlessly until Lynn stood up and smacked my hand away.

"You don't have to make a decision today."

Lynn was right; I didn't have to decide at that moment. However, I had no idea just how soon I would need to decide.

Wednesday night I found myself standing outside the Art Gallery waiting impatiently for Leah. I bite the bullet on Sunday afternoon and texted her that I was free. I needed to get out of my apartment and do something different; a movie with Leah was exactly that. I was tired of being inside my head and trying to determine what to do about Steph.

I hadn't yet made a decision about Steph and whether or not I was going to help her, but I had heard from my mother that she and Randy were close to deciding on a house. This just made me wonder if she was serious about leaving him or not.

I didn't want to offer to help Steph only to have her laugh in my face. Not that I thought she would, but I didn't really want to take a chance of being burned again. Hurt me once, shame on you. Hurt me twice, shame on me. I just wished I could make a decision.

"Hey," Leah said sweetly as she approached with a big smile on her face. She was certainly a beautiful woman, very much someone I could be interested in, but I knew in my heart of hearts I wasn't ready for that next step yet. "I hope you haven't been waiting long."

"No, just a few minutes."

"Good, I got held up at the gallery with a temperamental artist. You know how it is," she said with a laugh as I nodded softly. I knew all too well how intense artists could be, after all I used to be one of them. I liked to think that in my day I had been somewhat more reserved than other artists, but I probably wasn't.

"I already got us tickets," I said casually as Leah smiled her usual sweet smile. "I hope you didn't mind. I just didn't want it to be sold out."

"No…that's fine," she replied as I motioned with my hand for her to head into the gallery. I handed our tickets to the teenage girl at the front desk and she told us where to go for the movie. Leah and I both rolled our eyes since we knew the gallery like the back of our hand. We walked side by side down towards the theatre and after finding seats in the back row, we both sat back and stared at the screen.

"I hope this doesn't get weird now."

"Why would it get weird?" I asked, curious.

"You bought our tickets and I know you said we were doing this as friends, but now it seems more like a date," Leah admitted with a small shrug. "Not that I wouldn't date you, I totally would because you are adorable, sweet and all sorts of hot, but you don't seem ready for that. I'm talking too much, aren't I?"

"Just a little bit," I said with a laugh as two women sat in front of us, making it a little more difficult to talk. "Don't worry about the tickets. You can buy them next time, alright?"

"You already want there to be a next time?" Leah's eyes were wide and she had a pretty smile gracing her face. Why couldn't I find myself more attracted to her? I should become a monk.

"Do you talk during movies?"

"No."

"Do you hog all the popcorn?"

"I'm not a big fan, so no."

"And do you agree to go out for coffee with me after the movie?"

"Sure," Leah said with a hint of enthusiasm.

"Good, then yeah…we could do this again. You seem to meet all my criteria," I stated with a laugh as Leah looked me in surprise. "What's wrong?"

"You are just so contradictory," she stated with a small smile, no doubt thinking she had insulted me in some way. "Don't take it the wrong way, but one minute you are joking with me like you just did and the next I see a far off look in your face and I wonder why you are even out with me. You got that look at dinner the other night."

"I'm sorry," I stated remorsefully as Leah reached her hand over and gripped my knee.

"Don't be sorry, Paul. I just want you to be yourself with me, regardless of whether you think I will like that person or not," she explained as we got shushed from the ladies in front of us just as the lights went down in the theatre.

Just over two hours later, we walked out of the art gallery and I ushered Leah towards a coffee shop I knew around the corner. It was a little cool outside, but Leah wrapped her leather jacket tightly around her as we went.

When we slipped inside, Leah insisted on picking up our order and I grabbed a table in the far corner as a text went off in my pocket.

_I need to talk to you as soon as possible ~S_

Jesus, could she have worst timing? It's like every time she knew I was anywhere near a woman, she had to text me. I looked up and saw Leah still waiting for our drinks so I sent her a quick text letting her know I was unavailable and put my phone away in my pocket, deciding to try and ignore it and just have fun with Leah.

We spent the next two hours discussing all aspects of art. From artists we loved and hated, to works that were far too popular. Leah shared my thoughts about a lot of topics, and I realized just how great it was to sit there and discuss a topic I hadn't truly thought about for the last few years. My entire world used to revolve around art and I had lost sight of it when Steph left.

"What are you thinking about?" Leah asked as I finished my second coffee and leaned back a bit in the chair I was perched in.

"It's just weird how much my life has changed, you know?"

"Uh…no."

"Well, art used to be everything in my life. I was successful, I had sold dozens of paintings before I even went to art school and I was considered somewhat of a prodigy," I admitted with a hint of reluctance as Leah smiled.

"That's awesome, but why do you work for your sister's architecture firm?"

"I gave up. My art, my life, any hope of a real relationship," I said simply as Leah gave me a sweet smile, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. "Tonight was just a really good reminder that regardless of how much my life has changed; I didn't truly need to give up that which meant the most to me."

"And how do you feel about that? Are you going to head out and buy some art supplies and go wild?"

"Oh god no, but one day I might," I replied with a grin as the barista at the coffee shop took that moment to inform us that the store was closing. "I'll walk you to your car, alright?"

Leah and I walked towards her Mini Cooper that was parked at the art gallery and we talked easily along the way about an upcoming exhibit that was going to start in early December. We agreed to go together and I promised to call Leah over the weekend. We were going to attempt to be friends, even though I knew she wanted more. However, I had no idea what I truly wanted.

If Steph were available to me, would I even consider anything with Leah? That was the question of the century, wasn't it?

When I finally sat in my car after waiting until Leah had driven away, I pulled my phone from my pocket and found three more texts from Steph, each one becoming more frantic.

_Please, Paul. Just a few minutes – S_

_I told Randy tonight that I wasn't going to marry him. He didn't take it well. – S_

_I've left the hotel with nothing and have nowhere to go. Please call. – S_

I gave up any pretense I had of not helping her and wrote her back to meet me as soon as she could at the loft. I felt my stomach begin to turn with uncertainty as I looked down at my key ring and saw the key for my old loft still hanging there.

"Shit," I cursed as I put my car in reverse and made my way across town to the apartment.

I shouldn't have been surprised to find Steph already there, and just like she said, she had nothing on her but her purse and cell phone. Where were her clothes? She must have had some belongings in the hotel with Randy, right? What about all her stuff in Chicago? Did she live with Randy and now it was going to be hellish to get her stuff from him? Shit, this was much more complicated than my life needed.

I stepped from the car and Steph stood up from the stoop with a huge frown on her face. "I'm sorry I interrupted whatever you were doing," she said with her chin tucked into her chest. The light from above us lit up her face enough that I could see that she had been crying.

"It's fine," I stated as I fumbled with the key in the door. "It's been a while since I've been here, so I'm not sure everything works."

"I'm sure it's great. Anywhere away from Randy is perfect actually," she replied as I pushed open the door and we made our way down the small hallway to the elevator. I had to press the button a few times, but sure enough it came to life and as we stood there I was finally able to see her better. The sleeve of her shirt had been ripped and she had a small bruise on the corner of her mouth as well as a few on her arms. Her skin was paler than usual and her eyes had dark shadows underneath them.

Stephanie saw me analyzing her, looking for other injuries and immediately froze, crumbling onto the floor of the elevator as she burst into heartbreaking sobs.

"What in the fuck has he done to you?"

**Thoughts?**


	14. Chapter 14

**So, I have an idea. Since some of you are uncomfortable with the sex scenes I have taken it upon myself to make it to where you can still enjoy the chapter without it. I will put a line at the start of it and the ending. That way you can just skip it! I hope that works for people, that way you can still read the majority of the chapter. Although it is weird in this chapter because there is something I would like you to read in it so there is two separate sections that are marked as 'M' while I would like you to read the part in between them. But I am pretty sure it will work in the chapters after this, I guess this is like a trial run. lol**

**This is for all my faithful reviewers, you still have no idea how much it means to me. Going to try to update tomorrow, so please review and let me know you would like that.**

**Enjoy**

**SPOV **

**November 2006**

November was quickly fading and living with Paul was easy; like breathing. If I thought that working with him was comfortable, it was no different living and being in a relationship with him. He was even more genuine, sweet and thoughtful than I could have imagined, and the more we got to know one another, the more I fell.

And I was falling hard.

Since I had moved in we had managed some time to go out and actually have dates, even though the situation felt a little backwards – living together and _then_ dating. We went to the Art Museum a few times, twice to see a movie and once for an exhibit on the works of Cindy Sherman. I loved seeing Paul in his element and he was continually encouraging me about my poetry and had even bought me a journal to write in.

As I lay beside him on our bed, my fingers stroking his cheek softly as he slept, I still couldn't believe how lucky I had gotten.

I had posed for Paul late the night before, and the sexual tension between us grew tenfold until we pleasured each other on the floor, finally collapsing into bed naked just after two in the morning. Needless to say, I currently had no inclination to get up. However, tonight was a big night for the two of us, since we were having Kate & Garrett over for dinner. I was on the fence about the evening, knowing full well how Kate felt about our age difference, but Paul was so positive about everything.

* * *

"I'm not sleeping, you know," Paul said with a small groan as he rolled onto his side and pulled me until we were spooning, with me in front of him. "I was, however, having the best dream ever."

"Oh really?" I asked playfully as I rubbed my ass against him and he squeezed me tighter. "Are you going to tell me about it?"

"I'd much rather show you," he replied confidently as his hands slid down my stomach and along my thighs. "What do you think of that idea?" Paul used his hand to lift my leg over his, as his fingers began to rub slowly between my wet lips.

"It's a good one," I answered as I captured my bottom lip between my teeth and felt Paul grind his erection against me. I may have let a little moan slip out, but it grew louder as Paul began to circle my clit with his talented fingers.

"It was very good..."

"Tell me," I asked breathlessly as I felt Paul kissing up the column of my neck to suck my earlobe into his mouth. One hand remained nestled between my legs, rubbing and teasing me, as the other moved slowly up to tug at my already hard nipple. "What was happening in your dream?"

"This," Paul panted as I felt his hardness rub up against my clit and I groaned. "I was making love to you."

"Oh god," I groaned out as I felt Paul pass against me again.

We hadn't yet moved to that stage of our relationship yet, but I was beyond eager to feel him inside of me. It was the natural progression of things as far as I was concerned, but I felt like Paul had been a bit hesitant; at least until that moment.

"God, I want you," I moaned out as Paul ground his hips against my ass, his cock hitting my clit just right. "Please? Please... can we… can you..."

Thankfully, Paul was able to decipher my madness. He used his hands to roll me onto my back as we changed positions until he was hovering above me, his lips quirked up in a crooked smile as I grasped his face and pulled him to me for a kiss.

* * *

"You sure?"

"I thought _you_ were hesitating" I replied honestly as my fingers threaded into his hair and he kissed me softly.

"I just wanted to be sure… you know… that I loved you," Paul said without a hint of hesitation before he buried himself inside of me. A loud moan filled the room as Paul remained motionless, the two of us connected like never before.

Unfortunately for him, I was frozen. He loved me. Paul fucking loved me, and we were finally making love, and I wasn't responding to his declarations. What in the hell was wrong with me?

* * *

On a positive note, Paul didn't seem like he cared too much as he began to slowly move inside of me. The awkwardness I felt passed quickly as Paul began to kiss my neck, his hands and mouth worshipping me as his cock brought me intense passion I had never felt before.

"Oh… oh my god," I cursed out as Paul moved faster, his thrusts smacking wildly against my thighs as he grunted and groaned his way through. A layer of sweat broke out across his brow and I knew he was trying so hard to bring me to release first. The fingers from his free hand reached between us and he pinched at my clit, causing me to yelp in pleasure.

"God, you are perfect. So fucking beautiful," he moaned out lowly.

"More Paul…more…."

* * *

"I love you," he declared once more and I couldn't stop my body from coming undone at his words, even though I felt remorse that I hadn't said them back.

"Fucking beautiful. I'd love to paint you in the midst of an orgasm," Paul exclaimed through clenched teeth as I leaned up and kissed him, swallowing the grunts from his own release.

Paul collapsed at my side, his head resting on my rapidly beating chest, as I stared at the ceiling, playing with his hair. Paul loved me and I had no idea what to do with that information. I felt something for him, sure. I could even see us together in the long run, but was I ready to utter the word 'love'… no, not yet. I wanted to be 100% sure before I uttered those amazing words to such an amazing man.

It was just after six when Kate and Garrett rang the bell downstairs and Paul invited them up. Kate walked in brandishing a bottle of red wine and Garrett clutched a six-pack of Sam Adams. Introductions were made and we gave them a short tour while Paul entertained my friends and I finished putting dinner in the oven.

"So Paul, did Steph ever tell you that it was me who pushed her to answer your ad?" Kate asked with a sly grin on her face. "Do I get a finders fee or something?"

"Always out for yourself, aren't you Katie?" I asked from the kitchen as I watched her flip me the middle finger, both of us laughing.

"I'm being serious. I thought it was a good idea and a quick way to earn some money and look it where it led you. You don't have to fight off the advances of your old boss and you landed this hot young stud."

"Thank you, Kate," Paul replied his voice somber. "I don't think I ever could thank you properly for bringing Stephanie into my life."

"You could pay me the first sale price for a painting you sell of her," Kate suggested with a laugh.

"The paintings I've finished so far were for a class project. I may sell some of them eventually, but any of the newer ones we've worked on probably won't be sold, so you may be waiting a while."

I couldn't help the blush that crossed my face as I thought back to recent paintings Paul had done. Over time, he had become more comfortable with the idea of his girlfriend being his model, and the paintings had taken a decidedly more risqué turn. He had done several close ups. We never reached the point of finishing the painting, seeing as Paul would usually stop painting mid way through to help me to my release. The painting would be forgotten until the next morning usually.

"I have faith in my investment. I bet the value of one of those paintings will go through the roof in like ten years."

"We'll see," Paul replied as I shoved the chicken pot pie I was making into the oven and set the timer. We had only thirty minutes until dinner was expected to be done, so I sat down on the couch beside Paul and spent some time catching up with my friends.

"What it is that you are studying, Kate?" Paul asked, changing the subject as I saw him wink playfully at me.

"I'm in my final year as a history major. I've got my eye on a few potential positions when I graduate. Things that I want to do, but it's a little too early to think about it."

"And you, Garrett?"

"Physical Therapy, but I graduate in January not in May like the girls. I took some summer courses in my second year in an effort to graduate early," Garrett explained with a smile. Paul expressed his interest in doing the same thing, taking courses over the summer to speed up his graduation and Garrett encouraged him. I could tell why Paul was thinking it though… he wanted to be out of school as quick as he could. "The only problem with graduating early is that I have to make all the big decisions about my future now and already have a job offer."

"You do?" Kate asked, the surprise clear in her voice. "When did this happen?"

"I got the offer yesterday afternoon."

"Why didn't you mention it sooner?"

"Cause I'm not going to take it, that's why." We all looked at Garrett in confusion. Who wouldn't want a great opportunity fresh out of college? Maybe he had something else in mind and he didn't want to take the first job he was offered, but it seemed like he hadn't had the time to really contemplate it. "It's in Chicago, Katie."

"I don't blame you for not taking it then," I said quickly, my hatred of Chicago known very well to Kate since my mother lived there.

Kate and Garrett excused themselves for a moment to discuss their situation in private as Paul pulled me onto his lap, his lips finding mine. "What would you do in Garrett's situation?"

"I'd sit down and talk to you about it," Paul admitted easily. "I'd never move to Chicago, but I always thought of one day settling in New York or San Francisco. It's not like Boston is an art mecca, you know?" I nodded my head softly as Paul kissed my temple. "However, I'd never make a major decision without you, baby."

"I know," I replied as my body tensed around him. I was head over heels for Paul, but all this talk of the future was getting to be a bit much.

"Do you see yourself staying in Boston forever?" he asked curiously.

"Not really, but I never saw myself moving too far away from my dad, so that doesn't give me much of a choice in locations, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. So… when do I get to meet your dad, since he's so important to you?" Paul asked just as I was saved by the timer of the oven going off and headed to get our dinner.

Though my father knew of Paul's existence and that I was dating someone, I hadn't had the heart to tell him I was living with him or that I posed for him. I would never even consider telling my father exactly how I posed for him either. I loved my father more than anything in the world, but he had a tendency to be old-fashioned about certain things, and me living with a man before we were engaged or even married, would be a bit much for him.

Paul could sense I was avoiding the topic, so when I felt his come up behind me, his lips pressing against my neck, I knew I had to placate him somehow. "Let me discuss it with him at Christmas and we can see about going to Connecticut in the spring or something."

"Why so long?" Paul asked simply.

"I'm just not ready yet. I'm not sure how my father will handle everything," I admitted as I tensed and my hand slipped, burning my wrist slightly on the edge of the casserole dish. "Shit," I cursed as Paul saw my injury and lifted my wrist to his lips, kissing the burn reverently.

"I'm sorry."

"Just… I don't think you should push this topic until I've had a chance to discuss everything with my father," I replied. Sure, I talked to my dad two or three times a week, but I knew he would be hesitant and disapproving of our relationship. I didn't want reality to hit us yet. "I haven't had a chance to meet your family either, you know?"

"I know. I've been thinking that we need to rectify that soon."

"Oh."

"Yeah… my sister is currently out of town, but I thought that maybe before Christmas we could get together for a dinner or something. I'd like to introduce you to everyone at once."

"Let's talk about it later, alright?" I suggested as Kate and Garrett walked into the room holding hands and looking like everything was fine between them. "Dinner is ready," I announced and any troubles from the evening were forgotten as we settled in for dinner.

Thankfully, Kate didn't make any comments about Paul's age and the night proved to be more fun that I expected. Garrett and Paul got along well and I was a little surprised, but pleased. We sat around after dinner and continued to talk about things in general, Kate opening up and telling Paul embarrassing stories from our past.

"Remember that time those twins invited us back to their place?" Kate asked with a laugh as I rolled my eyes. "Except they weren't really twins, but rather two guys who looked kinda similar and were into kinky shit."

"I'd rather forget that night," I said as I took a sip of my wine as Paul and Garrett looked between us curiously.

"Apparently the boys were really into foursomes and somehow were under the misconception that Steph and I were together… _together_," Kate said simply. "Needless to say, Stephanie and I hightailed it out of there."

"I lost my cell phone that night," I explained as Paul laughed gently. "I couldn't be bothered to call the number because I was certain I left it at their apartment. If I called, it meant I would have to see them again and there was no way that was happening."

"When did you guys find out they were into group sex?" Garrett asked, laughing. "Obviously it wasn't before you got to their place. How does one just offer up that suggestion?"

"It was pretty clear a few minutes after we got there," Kate said grinning, remembering the memory. "Liam and Jim, the guys we were with, had nude photos on the wall and Steph and I were looking at them and realized that it was them."

"Then you left?" Paul asked with a laugh, no doubt picturing the look of mortification that would have been on my face then. I was a little more of a prude back in those days, before I was posing for Paul and became a little more open with my sexuality.

"No… then they came out from wherever they went, naked, holding glasses and a bottle of champagne," I replied tensely as Kate giggled, the wine beginning to sink in.

"They asked if we would suck them off and then we ran like the wind," Kate laughed. "I think they ended up going down on each other, because they were both really, _really_ excited."

"I told you at the bar I thought they were gay, but you didn't believe me," I added as Kate laughed once more, our boys joining in. "You just thought Liam was too hot not to be straight."

"Okay, so I was off slightly since they were bi. Luckily for me, it was two days later that I met Garrett."

"Yes, thank god. I was getting tired of the bar scene and trying to find guys," I admitted as Kate nudged my shoulder and smiled brightly as she looked at Paul.

"That's right, you find your men in the classified ads."

"Only the best advertise," I replied cheekily as I leaned in and kissed Paul, my hand threading through the hair at the nape of his neck as I pulled him closer. I hadn't realized how hot and heavy things were getting before Kate cleared her throat and our guests began to stand up.

"I think it's time we head on home," Kate said with a slight slur. Thank god I knew Garrett had only had one beer and was driving them home. "You guys look like you need a little privacy anyways."

We said our goodbyes, taking longer than I expected, and Kate and I promised to try and not be so distant even though we didn't live across the hall from one another anymore. Just before I closed the door behind them, Kate pulled me in for a quick hug and whispered happily in my ear.

"I think I was wrong about him, ya know. He's a keeper."

"Thanks," I replied genuinely as I squeezed tighter and Garrett tugged Kate into the elevator.

I closed the door and rested my back against it, taking a deep breath before I looked over to see Paul filling the dishwasher and cleaning up from dinner. It was a little thing, but it made my smile brighten as he turned to look at me, his grin mirroring mine.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked as he came towards me and wrapped his arms around my waist, kissing and nibbling at my neck. I shook my head softly as Paul kissed up my neck to my ear, sucking it between his teeth. "I think the rest can wait, don't you?"

"Yeah, they can wait," I replied as Paul took my hand and led me towards our bedroom, where he continued to shower me with his love.

Life was good.


	15. Chapter 15

**Okay so.. I have this one shot idea, and if any of you could PM me so we could talk about it would be great. I'm unsure whether or not I should post it, I honestly don't know if people would like it. **

**Okay… here we go, enjoy things are about to pick up.**

**PPOV**

**November 2011**

"What in the fuck has he done to you?" I shouted, as my blood pressure rose and I was practically shaking with fury. I wanted to hunt my cousin down and beat the shit out of him, but I had something more important to deal with. I bent down, crouching close to Steph's side and tried to console her as best as I could, but she was crying uncontrollably.

"It's… there's…" she mumbled incoherently as the elevator reached the top level and I hoisted her up into my arms, bracing her tightly to me, as we stepped off into the loft.

Not a lot had changed since the last time I had been there. The same furniture remained, but Lynn had covered everything with drop cloths. All of my art supplies, easels and canvases had either been ruined or put away, so the place looked pathetic; desolate and empty. It was hard to recall the life and love that had encompassed the apartment a few years earlier, but it was like a distant ghost in the room. Each corner held a memory of our time together.

"I'm going to put you down for a second. I need to strip the dust covers off the furniture," I explained as I set Stephanie down and like I expected, she crumbled beneath her weight. I still had my arm under her, so she didn't fall down too hard against the floor.

Once Steph was somewhat settled on the floor, her sobs subsided slightly, I quickly made my way around the room and stripped the covers off the furniture. They looked in decent shape, time clearly hadn't affected them at all, but it was almost too much for me to deal with. It had been so long since I had been in the loft and around my former home that I wasn't sure I would be able to handle it all.

"Paul?" I heard Stephanie say softly as I finished pulling the last cover off the settee I had used in our first few modeling sessions. I stared at it for a moment, longing to go back in time to our final days together because they had been some of the happiest of my life, until Steph called me again, pulling me from my reverie.

"Yeah?" I replied tensely as I came closer to her and noticed that her entire body was shaking. "Are you okay? What do you need, baby?" I asked, immediately regretting using the term of endearment, but it just slipped out. Our surroundings didn't help.

"I need a shower," she panted through her tears as I nodded in acquiescence and went over to the sink to see if the water was still on. After a few moments of the pipes sputtering, water came on and I breathed a sigh of relief when it went from cold to hot. I wordlessly went over and picked Stephanie up, carrying her into the bathroom, where I sat her down on the closed toilet and turned the showerhead on, the room filling with steam.

"I'm going to go hunt down some towels and stuff. I'm sure they are here somewhere. Lynn didn't throw anything out," I explained simply as Steph nodded her head quietly. I stepped out, letting her get dressed and when I found some towels buried in a box in the closet, I opened the bathroom door tentatively and put them on the counter. "I'll be outside, alright?"

When I went to close the door behind me, I could hear Stephanie crying softly in the shower and had it been a few years earlier, I would have climbed in with her and consoled her. I couldn't bring myself to do it now though. The situation was so drastically different now and I saw Steph in such a different light, that I had to listen to the voice of reason in my head and step away. I closed the door with a solid click and went back into the living room to throw myself on the couch with a loud thud.

It seemed like an hour or more passed, even though it was probably only ten minutes, before Steph came out of the shower. She had a towel wrapped around her body and another one around her hair. "I don't suppose you have any clothes here do you?" she asked quietly as I chastised myself mentally for not looking for clothing at the same time I looked for towels. Lord knows she didn't want to be putting on her torn shirt again and I couldn't blame her.

I jumped up from the couch and headed into our old bedroom, knowing full well there were some boxes of old clothes in there. Kate had picked up a lot of Steph's stuff about a week after she left, but I had a few things left that would make due until we could go and get Steph's clothes from Peter. Luckily, I found an old pair of Stephanie's yoga pants and one of my t-shirts in the first box, but it was the item on top that brought back the most memories.

"You still have that old thing?" Steph asked as she stood behind me, her hand reaching out to grab the silken fabric from my shaking hand. "I used to love wearing that for you."

"I thought it was a bit much when I first bought it," I admitted with a small blush as Steph moved away from me. "I'm glad you used to like it though."

"I learned to love it. The first time I put it on I thought it was much too small, but I realized it didn't really matter considering how much of me you would end up seeing."

"Here," I said as I reached my hand out, offering her the pants and shirt I had found for her. "You get changed and I'm gonna go see if there is some bedding around here." Steph nodded softly and I high tailed it out of the room and away from the overwhelming urge I had to hold her.

It took all of my self-control to remember that she had left me and effectively ruined what we had. I couldn't let myself feel for her what I had once before. It would be the most self-destructive thing I could do.

In the closet of the spare room, I found a set of sheets and some blankets, with relative ease. It surprised me how much stuff was boxed up and remained in the loft. Lynn had cleaned up the loft when I told her I refused to go back there, but I had assumed that she had given away or thrown out almost everything. I guess I was wrong, and this was clearly a good thing for Steph.

When I stepped out into the hallway, Stephanie was standing there, dressed and with her long, damp hair falling down her back, wetting her shirt. She looked genuinely despondent, her face sallow and her expression bleak. "We're in luck," I exclaimed with a small amount of enthusiasm. "We can make up the bed for you and then tomorrow we'll have to get some food. I have nothing here, but since it's so late I figured it didn't matter."

"Thank you," Stephanie said softly as she plucked the linens from me and brought them back into our former bedroom. In hindsight, I lived in the loft a lot longer without her than I had with her, but I still felt like it was ours. It probably wasn't the most logical or healthy thing, but I couldn't help myself. "I umm… do you think Gordon would go to Randy's for me tomorrow?"

"I could go," I offered as Steph sat on the edge of the bed, her hands shaking as she began to cry again. "What happened, Steph? I mean… if he attacked you or something we should probably call the police."

"No… no police," Steph pleaded, her eyes frantic as she stared at me intently. "He didn't do… he didn't touch me… like that. We fought; there was screaming and a few things in the hotel room got broken."

"How did your shirt get ripped? If he laid a hand on you…" My hands balled up into fists at my side as I stood just inside the doorframe, watching the shell of the woman I loved fall apart. "You don't deserve whatever it is that he has done to you."

"Don't I?" Steph asked, her voice slightly rose as she wiped the tears from her cheeks roughly with the back of her hands. "I left you five years ago and never even gave you a chance to find me, to contact me. I sent Kate to gather my things and refused all your calls. I fucking ruined you… me… I fucked us up beyond repair and what did I go and do? I ended up with someone who was the complete opposite of you in every way because I thought he was what I was entitled to. I deserve so much worse than what I have gotten," Steph spat angrily as I watched her knuckles turn white as a ghost as she clutched the edge of the mattress.

"Regardless of what happened to us or why, I don't think you ever deserved this Steph. No one does."

"I told Randy tonight that I was leaving him," she admitted, her voice soft, as my eyes grew wide in surprise. It was nice to know that she was smartening up though. "He had a business meeting until 8, so I packed up all my things and had them by the door when he got home. The moment I tried to leave, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the living room, tossing me like a rag doll onto the couch as he hurled insult after insult at me. For the first time in five years I actually felt something other than sadness; I felt furious."

Stephanie stood up and began pacing around the small room as her fingers tugged on her hair, reminding me of my own little habit. I couldn't help but wonder if she had picked it up from me. "He treated you like shit, you should have been furious."

"I wasn't mad at Randy, if you can believe that shit, I was angry with myself. Everything that had happened in the past five years was my fucking fault. From leaving, to moving to Chicago and agreeing to marry Randy, I did nothing to stop it. I turned into such a weak and fragile person; I was ashamed of myself. My shirt ripped when I tried to get off the couch and Randy reached out for me. It wasn't… he has hit me before, but this wasn't like that."

I was full on fucking murderous with rage as Steph explained to me that shortly after they got engaged; Randy came home from a meeting drunk and was angry that Stephanie refused to have sex with him. He smacked her across the jaw and when she began to cry, he was instantly apologetic. "He spent the next week showering me with gifts, flowers, little blue boxes from Tiffany's… you name it. It was shortly after that when Randy told me he wanted to move out of Chicago and to the Boston office. Part of me was scared to come back, and another part of me knew that if I came I would feel closer to you. Everything Randy did to me was worth it because I got to see you again."

"How in the fuck can you say that?" I asked, my anger reaching a boiling point. "He was abusive, verbally and physically, against you. I don't get how you can think it was worth it. I am finding it really difficult to stand here when all I want to do is go back to your hotel and fuck him up so badly he'll need his jaw wired shut."

"Paul…" Stephanie hesitated as I raised my hand, silencing her.

"He is the worst fucking scum known to man, and Lynn and I both knew this from when we were kids. He needs to be set fucking straight, especially after some of the shit he said to me when you were in the bathroom at the restaurant the other night," I yelled with a shudder as I thought back to our awkward dinner a few nights earlier.

"What did he say?" Steph asked her voice anxious, as I gripped the doorjamb tightly in my hand.

"He basically admitted that he treated you like a possession. You were his to do with as he saw fit, whether that meant with him or with someone else," I explained as Steph sat back down, her body shaking as her tears fell again. "Please tell me… please tell me you weren't like that for him. Did you…..Steph?" I pleaded, my voice raising loudly as I tried to finish, but I just couldn't form the words.

I could feel the bile wanting to choke me as I watched Steph nod her head softly, her tears falling harder than ever now. What in the fuck had happened to her?

"Fuck," I shouted as I threw my fist into the wall, punching a hole through the drywall, before I strode out into the living room. I was furious, I wanted to release my anger in any way, but there was nothing left in the loft for me to destroy but the drywall or the furniture.

I sat on the couch, my body shaking in fury and remorse, as I buried my head in my hands and let the tears fall from my own eyes. What in the hell had I done that was so bad? What had I done that had driven Stephanie to Randy and to do what she did… with whoever the fuck she did it with?

I stepped into the kitchen, still hearing Steph's hiccups and sobs from the bedroom, as I slammed each and every cabinet looking for something, preferably booze, to take my edge off. I even climbed on the counter and opened the cupboard above the fridge where I used to hide my stash from Lynn, desperate for a snort of coke, but it was empty too. Lynn had been far too fucking thorough.

"Paul," I heard Steph's voice call from the bedroom. I walked in tentatively and found her curled up in a ball, her sobs subsiding as she attempted to fall back asleep. "For what it's worth… I wish I had never left. I left the best part of me with you."

I shut the bedroom door behind me and went into the kitchen, scrawling a note on a scrap piece of paper before leaving the apartment and heading to my home. Fortunately for me, I never made it there.

"This better be good," Lynn declared as she opened the door and saw me standing in the rain, my fist raised to knock again. "What in the fuck are you doing here at…" Lynn glanced at the clock before looking back up at me "three thirty in the morning on a Thursday."

"Steph's at the loft," I said simply as Lynn ushered me into her foyer and I saw Gordon at the top of the stairs, looking at us in confusion.

"Go back to sleep baby," Gordon said sweetly. "I'll take care of this and be back up soon."

"Okay," Lynn replied sleepily as Gordon made me stand still before rushing to grab some towels and a change of clothes for me. As I changed, he put on a pot of coffee, but I didn't need caffeine, I needed liquor. I grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels from his liquor cabinet and took two long pulls from it as Gordon looked on with concern.

"Why is Steph at your loft?"

"She left Randy tonight, well technically last night, and she had nowhere else to go."

"I thought you were going out with Leah?"

"I did… right after everything ended, Steph texted me needing help. Who else could she get to help her?" Gordon shrugged his shoulders as I took another drink. "She packed up her stuff and when he got home from a meeting she told him she didn't want to marry him. He didn't take it so well."

"Did he hit her?" Gordon asked, his anger beginning to boil, not unlike mine had when Steph first told me.

"Not really, but he grabbed her wrist and there was a bit of a struggle apparently. Stephanie did admit that he has physically and verbally abused her in the past though."

"That fucking son of a bitch…" Gordon declared, his teeth clenched as his chest began to heave in anger. "Where the fuck does he get off thinking he can hit a woman?"

"He also used to make Steph give…..to other people." I was still unable to say the words, but I felt like I got my point across.

"He what?" Gordon yelled as he reached over for the bottle of Jack and took his own gulp. "When do we get to go beat the shit out of him? Do you think he's maybe blackmailing her and that's why she stayed with him?"

"I have no idea, but Steph asked if you could go get her stuff tomorrow?" I explained as Gordon looked at me confused. "I think it's because her and mom are friendly, so if you went, it might make sense. If I showed up, it would arouse suspicion."

"Does he know where she is staying?"

"I doubt it. All she had was the clothes on her back and some money for a cab. Her purse, her clothes… everything, is either at their hotel room or back in Chicago."

"This is so fucked up, Paul."

"Yeah, I know," I said as we made our way into the living room and sat down on his leather couch, side by side. "Part of me wants nothing to do with her and another part wants to console her and admit that I love her and I would forgive her for her past… it's all so confusing."

"Love is always confusing."

"Thanks… I think."

"Listen Paul, you know I am not, we are not Steph's biggest fan, but I also think that considering her situation, we should help her," Gordon said sincerely as I took another drink. "I don't think you should get back together with her, but I agree that she should be as far away from Randy as possible. I'll go collect her things tomorrow from Randy and we can go from there, alright?"

"I owe you."

"No, Stephanie owes me. You don't owe me shit," he exclaimed with his patented dimpled grin. "Well, I owe Randy a few upper cuts and maybe a punch to his gut."


	16. Chapter 16

**SPOV**

**December 2006**

The air was crisp and my hands felt freezing cold as Paul and I stood in a Christmas tree lot trying to decide on a tree for the loft. I didn't really see the point of getting one since I had to go back to Connecticut for the holidays to see my father, and Paul would be at his parents, but he was so excited about the holidays, our first together, that I couldn't deny him.

"Why don't we get one of those Charlie Brown Christmas trees?" I offered as Paul gave me a sideways glance and rolled his eyes. "They are so cute and tiny."

"Because none of the ornaments I have will stay on a little tree. We need something that's a decent size and anyways, we have the space for a big one."

"That's what she said," snickered the teenaged boy who was attempting to help us. I gave a small smile in return and watched as Paul remained focused as he moved to another row and suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

"We'll take this one," he announced proudly as he pulled me to his side and kissed my temple. I looked at the tree before us, wondering briefly how the hell we would get it in my truck, but then realized it didn't matter. Paul was happy and I wasn't going to do anything to ruin that.

We left fifteen minutes later after paying way too much for our tree and it took us almost half an hour to get it into the elevator and up to our loft. However, when it was finally in place and we had strung the lights and strategically placed all the homemade ornaments, I had to admit that it was beautiful.

"You did good," I said sweetly to Paul as we sat on the couch, our arms wrapped tightly around each other as we simply stared at the tree.

"This is the first Christmas I've ever truly been excited about," Paul admitted genuinely. "Things are going great with my art and school, I've got a beautiful and sexy girlfriend who I can't keep my hands off of, and I just have this feeling that 2007 is going to be the best year ever."

"Wow, you are full of the festive spirit, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am," Paul replied as he grasped my hips and pulled me closer to him, my head turning to the side to find his lips eagerly awaiting mine. We moved languidly against each other at first before I straddled his legs and things took a turn for the desperate. Hands moved quickly, clothing was shed and promises of forever, from Paul, were uttered over and over again.

Christmas came and went without much fanfare. On Christmas Eve day I drove in my old truck to my father's place in Greenwich, and I spent several days there with him. We didn't exchange gifts because we never knew what to get the other, so instead we shared stories of our lives, explained how things were going with us, and I cooked and baked up a storm. I think my father was most appreciative of a good home-cooked meal.

"You should call more often, Steph," my dad chastised me on the first night I was home. We had gone to the diner for dinner, and the first ten minutes were taken up by my dad re-introducing me to friends of his who were also in the diner on Christmas Eve. I had offered to make a dinner, but my dad wouldn't hear of it.

"You know the phone works both ways, right?"

"Yeah, but you are always busy and I'm always free and doing nothing," he replied softly as I rolled my eyes, knowing my dad was laying it on thick. When I lived with him, after my mother left, he was always out playing poker or drinking with his friends. Basically just trying to forget and move on. He had more of a life then I did during that time.

"I'm always in the apartment writing essays for class or pos…" I stopped short of telling my father I was posing for Paul and decided instead to talk to him a bit more about the boy I was falling for.

"What is pos?"

"Nothing, I was just going to say that I was sometimes spending time with Paul." There was definitely a groan from my father at this point. "If you want to call my cell phone, you can reach me there any time."

"Even when you are with Paul?"

"Yes, Dad," I replied with a roll of my eyes.

"So, are you going to tell me about him? All you mentioned on the phone was that he was a fellow student at UW. Is he in your classes or something?" My dad took a small bite of his hamburger and waited patiently, well as patient as my father could be, for me to respond. I was caught between a rock and a hard place though, because I wasn't sure just how honest I should be with my father about Paul.

"No… he's an art major."

"He's not like some tattooed, ear ringed freak looking kid with spiky green hair is he?" he asked in his usual gruff way. "I've seen some of those kids on MTV and you should stay away from them."

"Actually, he's very straight-laced for an art student. However, he's… umm…" my father looked at me with his french fry raised to his mouth, waiting. "He's a freshman."

"Steph…" he said slowly, his voice ripe with disappointment.

"It's only five years difference, dad."

"Five years? Oh, so that makes it all right?"

"It doesn't matter to me. Paul is a lot more mature and intelligent than most men my age who have already graduated from college. He's successful too. He owns his own apartment, has had paintings sold and even has a showing in a gallery late next month in Boston. I really think that you would like him," I said strongly, as though I was trying to sell him to my father. In hindsight, I just should have brought Paul with me and my dad would have known immediately how wonderful Paul was. He'd see eventually that Paul was my better half.

"Does he watch sports?"

"I don't know," I said with a small sigh, because of course this would be an item of importance to my dad. "We usually watch movies." Yeah, like my father would buy that. Thankfully he just shoved another bite of a french fry into his mouth and scowled at me briefly.

"I hope you know what you are doing, Steph."

"I do."

"Good. I want to meet him. Sooner rather than later."

"Okay," I replied. "When I get back to Boston I'll talk to him and see what we can arrange."

"Good. Now let's eat."

The rest of the trip home didn't consist of much conversation about, or with, Paul. I only spoke to Paul briefly each night, but he was staying at the loft, since his parents lived in the city. He was lonely, which was to be expected, but he was also keeping busy with reports and essays for his art history class, as well as putting the finishing touches on the works he was submitting to the gallery. Though I hated to admit it, it was probably a good thing that we were apart for a few days.

When I got back to Boston on the 28th, Paul was a little too eager to see me. I had barely dropped my bag in the foyer when he had me pushed up against the wall, his lips fused to mine as he ground his erection against me. It was rough, desperate and all encompassing, but it was fitting for us. We did it three more times that night, actually making it into our bed for the last round, but neither of us seemed sated. We always wanted more.

It was at this point, after round three and while lying in our bed, that Paul reached into his nightstand drawer and came out with a small box wrapped in very fancy holly and ivy wrapping paper.

"You didn't need to get me anything, Paul." I couldn't help but think that the gift was too much, considering all I had gotten for him was a frame for the printed announcement of his gallery showing next month.

"It's Christmas, well as close as we could get to Christmas," he said with a wide grin. "It would be grounds for getting my ass kicked if I didn't get you anything. Kate told me so when I called her for help with your gift. I just wanted to do something nice for my girlfriend."

Paul was so pleased with himself that there was no way I could rain on his parade. I opened the wrapping paper slowly, it was too pretty to just throw away, and stopped short when it came time to open it.

"Will I be mad by how much money you've spent on me?" I asked, curious.

"No. I promise," Paul replied, the grin still plastered on his face.

Of course, I had been right. When I opened the box, I was surprised into silence by the beautiful gift. Paul had given me a beautiful intricate ring called a fiddle ring, which I could move easily with my fingers, as I tended to be restless. Inside he had engraved the words 'You Inspire Me –P' and my breath was taken away.

I kissed him firmly and we made love once more, the ring resting comfortably on the ring finger of my right hand and I couldn't remember a moment when I had felt more content or loved.

Perhaps I was in love with him after all.

**January 2007**

The New Year was celebrated quietly between Paul and me. We enjoyed dinner together and then ended up making love until all hours of the night. When I woke up, I wasn't overly surprised to find myself still in the living room, with Paul painting furiously in front of his canvas. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept, and I found myself wishing I could do something to help him.

In fact, over the first two weeks of January, Paul seemed to be sleeping less and less, determined to finish the set of paintings of me he was supposed to have a gallery showing of in two weeks. Considering the amount of time we spent together then, it was more like we were roommates than lovers. I was always at school or glued to my computer working on the first draft of my thesis and Paul was either completely buried in his work or fast asleep because he had been up for two or three days straight.

I hadn't yet said 'I love you' to Paul, though I knew whatever I felt for him was growing exponentially with each passing day. I just couldn't bring myself to say something I wasn't 100% sure I meant. Paul hadn't said it since the day we first had sex, and we had been intimate too many times to count since our first.

I was caught off guard and pulled from my thesis as Paul came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. "I need a break. What about you?" he said slowly, as I felt his lips ghost along the side of my neck. Someone was feeling frisky.

* * *

I saved my work and put my laptop down on the coffee table as Paul hopped over the couch and planted himself firmly across from me, pulling me into his lap. "How goes the writing?"

"Slow, but it's happening, right?" I replied as Paul silenced me with a searing kiss and his hands began moving slowly across my body. I repositioned myself so I was straddling him, his arousal clear as day between us, as our kissing continued, hot and passionate. Paul gripped my ass and stood from the couch, carrying me with him to the settee. "I've always wanted to have you here," he admitted, his voice filled with lust and want. He set me down gently, his hands moving reverently on my body as he undressed me.

With my back pressed against the bottom of the settee, Paul hovered over me before his lips found purchase against my neck and he began nipping and kissing my overheated skin. His hands moved slowly, touching me with purpose, as he slid the hem of my shirt up and began kissing his way up my stomach. Once he reached the underside of my breasts, he was quick to peel off my shirt followed by my bra.

"You are beyond beautiful," Paul uttered quietly as his lips met mine again, this time with more passion and desperation. My hands found their way into his hair, pulling him closer to me as I hitched one of my legs onto his back, doing everything in my power to eliminate the space between us. I felt like there was always too much. Even when he was deep inside me, our bodies wrapped around each other, I needed more. "I love you."

Kate said this unyielding longing and desire I had for him was love, but I wasn't so sure. I thought about him constantly and when I woke up each morning, it put a huge smile on my face to see him lying beside me, but was that love? Did I love him? I couldn't say it if I wasn't certain.

"I adore you," I responded, feeling a little remorseful, but Paul simply kissed me again, his eyes shining with happiness.

Seconds later, he pulled me by the waist of my pants to the edge of the settee and began pulling me free of the rest of my clothing. Once I was completely nude and spread out for him, Paul took his time worshipping me with his mouth, tongue and fingers. My body ached and cried out for more. Each touch seared my skin and made me yearn for things I couldn't verbalize. Things like forever.

"You are so responsive to me," Paul said as I came around his fingers, one leg over the back of the settee as my hands gripped the edges roughly. "You were made for me, I knew it. The moment I first laid eyes on you," he said genuinely as I heard the sound of his pants dropping to the floor. Before I even had a chance to reacquaint myself, Paul was thrusting his cock deep inside me as I moaned loudly in sheer pleasure.

With one hand on my hip and the other clutching my ankle that rested on the top edge of the settee, Paul pushed and pulled inside of me, claiming me and loving me in ways that only he could. The furrow of concentration on his brow, the look of pure lust and desire on his face, all of it made me clench and ache.

It didn't take long for both of us to slip past the edge and come screaming in release, but it was the gentle kisses after the furious fucking that made me smile from ear to ear. Paul was nothing if not a contradiction when it came to the bedroom. He wanted to show me how much he loved me, but he was so young and eager to please that sometimes he just couldn't control himself. Not that I was complaining; not in the least. He was a wonderful and giving lover and I was lucky as fuck that he was mine.

* * *

With our breathing settled, Paul pulled me down onto his lap on the floor and kissed me tenderly as he wrapped his naked body around mine. "I love you." His eyes were, once again, full of love and adoration, but I had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"I know."

Not too long after, as I began to fall asleep on the settee, I could hear Paul move around the room, clearly restless. Soft music began to float through the living room and then I heard some rustling before a huge sigh fell from Paul's mouth. I fell asleep moments later, but I could feel as though Paul was painting me.

A week before Paul's gallery opening, I came home from class, completely expecting to find him painting like a madman, but the loft was empty.

"Paul?" I called out, but there was no response and I was surprised to find that I was somewhat relieved. I was hoping, although fruitlessly, that he was catching up on some sleep because he had been like a zombie the past few days. His focus was solely on finishing his work and every now and then he'd need me, and we'd make love on whatever surface or in whatever room we were in. I never complained because I understood how focused he was and he promised that as soon as the showing was over, things would go back to normal.

I was really looking forward to that.

I went into our bedroom and changed into my comfortable clothes, determined to put a dent into my thesis outline so that I would be prepared when I met with my professor the next week. However, just as I was about to pull my laptop out from my bag, my cell phone rang instead.

"Hello," I replied coolly, not recognizing the number on my display.

"Is this Stephanie McMahon?" Ah fuck. I thought I had paid off all my bills? Had I missed one and now creditors were after my ass.

"Who's calling?"

"This is Dr. Marks from Greenwich General Hospital," he stated succinctly. "I'm sorry to have to call you like this Stephanie, but your father was taken the Hospital this afternoon after suffering a heart attack at work."

My heart fell from my chest and I grabbed the edge of the bed, needing to sit down. "When… when did it happen?"

"A little over an hour ago, ma'am."

"Okay."

I didn't hesitate or think twice. Instead, I grabbed a bag out of the closet and shoved some clothes into it, making sure I had the essentials, as I thanked Dr. Marks for calling and headed out the truck, hoping like hell that it would make the long journey back to Greenwich. I needed it to be fine.

I needed my dad to survive. After everything he had been through, he was nothing, if not a survivor.


	17. Chapter 17

**PPOV**

**November 2011**

Against my better judgment, I didn't sleep on Lynn's couch that night. I found a twenty-four hour grocery store and stocked up on some essentials for Steph like milk, bread and peanut butter, before heading back to the loft. When I got there, I put all the food away and then checked on Stephanie, who was tossing and turning restlessly as she attempted to sleep in our old bed. It took all of my willpower not to go and console her.

I leaned against the doorjamb and watched for far too long, as she didn't quite succeed in getting any rest. My memories flooded back to me of all the times we had spent together in that bed, the good and the bad. Steph wasn't aware of it but a lot of times when I had difficulty painting, and she was asleep, I would come in and watch her for a little bit. She used to smile and mumble a lot in her sleep, it was actually very endearing, and very much the opposite of the restlessness she was dealing with now.

After watching her for almost thirty minutes, I glanced at my watch and realized I should try to get a few minutes of sleep. I attempted to sleep on the couch, but it wasn't exactly the most comfortable. So, instead of staring off at the ceiling, or going back and being super creepy by continuing to stare at my ex-girlfriend, I found myself gravitating towards the old guest bedroom that held all of my old supplies.

Quietly, I moved through the room, pulling sheets off of ruined canvases and uncovering brushes, paints and supplies I had forgot I even owned anymore.

Right before Stephanie left I had less than a week to go till a gallery showing, but it never happened. The paintings were due to be picked up at the loft two days after Steph left and I managed to destroy almost all of them in my anger. They were still here, ripped and torn, painted and even burned, serving to remind me of the worst period of my life. My name had basically been ruined in the art industry after my showing was cancelled, but the one gallery in San Francisco that still contacted me didn't seem to think I was a has-been, even though I felt like one.

I opened a drawer in my supply cabinet and was surprised when my fingers moved reverently over the dozens of different brushes and palette knives, the wood of their handles smooth under my touch.

My stool was perched in the corner and I moved forward tentatively to sit on it, taking in the scene before me. Ruined paintings covered in splashes of paint. Images of Steph I spent hours, sometimes days, perfecting were now filled with holes in them from my angry punches and some I even took knives to in an effort to erase the months of my life that Steph had turned upside down.

I knew I was young and impressionable, but I was so absolutely head over heels in love with her that I thought nothing could touch us. I didn't realize just how wrong I was though. Then again, I had never loved so completely and all-encompassing before, or after, Steph.

Regardless of how things fell apart between us, I had experienced love and that was better than anything else I had ever known in my life.

Of course, I never even knew if Steph had loved me back. I had my suspicions that she loved me as much as I did her, but she never said anything. I tried to encourage it, constantly telling her how I felt, but not once in our short relationship did she ever utter those three simple words to me. I should have known, when she didn't respond to my declarations, that things weren't right. I was so wrapped up in preparing for the gallery showing that I clearly missed some sort of sign that things were going downhill.

Would it have made a difference if I had known though? I wasn't sure. Then again, I wouldn't have answers to any of my questions until Steph and I talked about what happened between us back then.

Before I realized it, I had grabbed a blank canvas from behind me and perched it onto the easel, staring at it and feeling my hands shake unsteadily. The first supplies I had ready were an assortment of charcoals, so without thinking, I began to draw. The dark black of the charcoal was a shock against the bright white of the canvas, but I couldn't stop my hands from moving over and over again, an abstract image of the Stephanie I used to love, coming to life.

"Paul?" I heard softly a little while later, as I brushed the hair from my eyes with my blackened hands. "Are you…?"

"Painting?" I replied, finishing Stephanie's question. I shrugged my shoulders and took a quick glance to my left, where Steph was standing in the open doorway. Her hands were wrapped around her body, clinging to herself, and her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail. She still looked as pretty as she ever did. Regardless of what time had done to her and her self-esteem, it had been nice to her figure and beautiful face. "No… not really. I'm drawing."

"When was... the last time you drew?" she asked, clearly nervous about the answer I was about to deliver.

"January 15th." Stephanie left on January 16th.

We had celebrated the New Year together, making love and declaring promises for the next year and the rest of our lives together. I had such hope that day that all of our dreams would come true. I had no idea that just two short weeks later our house of cards would come crumbling down.

"I shouldn't have asked," she replied timidly, as she tightened her hold on herself.

"No, you shouldn't have left," I replied snidely before my conscience got the better of me. I put down the charcoals and brushed at my face with the back of my hand, remorse setting in. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for."

"No, it really wasn't. I deserve whatever you want to throw my way. However, I should have done things a lot differently, but I had to leave," she said simply as she sat on my stool in the corner that I had long abandoned to work on the drawing of her. "It's nice… the picture, I mean."

"I've done better," I replied as I used my finger to smudge parts of the image in an effort to perfect it. "I will admit that it's nice to be able to work again. I just… I couldn't sleep. I couldn't shut off my mind, so I came in here. Next thing I knew I was drawing."

"My dad died," Stephanie said softly as I stopped suddenly and turned to look at her. "Not recently… it was almost five years ago. He died on January 19th, 2007. I still remember the day like it was yesterday, you know?"

Holy shit. Was she about to tell me everything that had happened to us? The reason why she left?

I sat frozen to the spot because I worried if I moved or suggested we go sit down in the living room that Steph would stop talking, and I wouldn't get to the heart of why she left me. Lynn had been right when she told me I needed to know what had gone down all those years ago. I needed it so much, and I hadn't realized it until she began talking to me a moment earlier.

"It was a heart attack at first, but then he had a stroke. I remember walking into the loft and putting my purse down on the table and then going to get changed in our... in the bedroom. You were still in class or something," Stephanie explained as I watched her brush some tears off her reddened cheek. "My cell phone rang and it was a doctor from Connecticut General telling me that dad had been rushed to the hospital."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know," she sobbed quietly, as she used the hem of her shirt to try and stop the tears. "Ever since my mother left, it had just been my dad and I. My life revolved around him and then she left to go be the woman of wealth she always wished she had been with my dad. So when I heard he was sick, the only thing I could think about was getting to him. I regret it all now, of course, but I hopped in my shitty old truck and made my way to Connecticut as quickly as I could. I was shocked that the truck got there at all considering it had been on its last legs for so long. My cell phone was dead and I didn't know it when I left the apartment. I was so focused on my dad, I didn't think about contacting you, and when I did, I didn't know how to. Your number was in that phone and nowhere else."

I was completely silent, because I didn't know what to say. Could I get where she was coming from? Sure, but it didn't make it any easier, nor did it answer most of my questions. Her dad died, but she didn't contact me? That was what didn't make any sense. I opened my mouth to speak and Steph lifted her hand to silence me.

"Let me get this out before... before I can't… okay?" I simply nodded and Stephanie took a deep breath before continuing. "At the hospital my dad was in really rough shape. Since my mother had left, his drinking and smoking had gotten worse, so his body wasn't in any shape to help him get better. I saw this at Christmas and though he told me things weren't as bad as I thought, I shouldn't have listened to him. I should have known he wasn't taking care of himself. Shortly after I got to the hospital, he suffered a series of small strokes that basically left him brain dead. Things didn't get any better after that because then I began to get sick myself."

I looked at Stephanie, certain that surprise was in my expression, but I fought my urge to console her. I wanted to know everything. Each tiny little detail that made her leave me was important and if I was going to move on and potentially help her do the same, I had to make amends with everything.

"I remember it, clear as day, as I sat in the drab brown colored room at the hospital where they break the bad news to families. Except I was all alone; I didn't have a family. I probably could have called my mother and she would have come, but I didn't think about it. I should have called you, but again, all I could think about was my dad. When his doctor told me about the strokes that left him brain dead, he told me the only thing they could really do for him was make him comfortable until he passed away. They wanted me to agree to remove him from the ventilators that were keeping him alive.

"I sat in the hideous room for over three hours, crying until I had no more tears to cry, and finally agreed to let my father pass peacefully. I stayed by his side, holding his hand and praying for a miracle that would bring him back to me, but it was pointless. A little less than five hours after they took him off the breathing machines, Vince died, my hands clutched in his as I continued to pray."

"Steph… you didn't have to do it alone. I just wish…"

"When the nurses tried to help me leave the room, I collapsed."

Jesus Christ.

I knew Stephanie's life hadn't been the best while we had been apart, but the reason she left me still didn't make sense. It was like I was missing some of the most important pieces to put the puzzle together.

"My stomach hurt so fucking badly, Paul," she admitted as her quiet sobs began to pick up and she couldn't be bothered to push away the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. "I had no idea what was going, but I had been cramping for the two days I had been with my dad, fighting for him to live, while unknowingly killing…"

"What?"

"I was pregnant, Paul."


	18. Chapter 18

**SPOV**

**January 2007**

There are few things I remember clearly from the early days when I returned to Connecticut. I remember sitting beside my father for what seemed like hours on end, clutching his hand and begging for him to come back to me. I can recall when the doctor told me that the best thing for my father, and me, was to take him off the ventilator and let him pass peacefully because there was nothing more they could do for him. And I remember watching him pass away as I cried, hell I practically convulsed, at his side wishing I could turn back the hands of time and somehow protect him from this cruel fate.

Then, it became a bit of a blur.

The nurses told me, in detail as they tried to refresh my memory, what had happened after my father passed, but even now, as I sat on my father's beloved armchair in his small house, it all seemed so surreal.

I _had_ been pregnant.

With Paul's child.

A child that was never 'viable' because I had suffered through what was called an ectopic pregnancy. The doctors told me all the medical mumbo jumbo about how the egg was in my fallopian tube when it was impregnated and that I could never carry the child to term that way. I knew the logic behind it all, and why I suffered the miscarriage, but it didn't make me feel any better about the situation. In fact it made me wonder if there was something horribly wrong with me.

If it had been a normal pregnancy, even with the Vince's death, I wouldn't have thought twice about keeping the child. Our child.

Regardless of the fallout happening between Paul and me, I would have kept him or her and raised them. I would have loved that child more than anything in the world. My hand wrapped around my stomach, as I was apt to do these days, and stared outside at the snow that was falling softly in the early night.

My mother was hovering close by in the kitchen, drinking a tea while talking to her husband on the phone about the arrangements for Dad's funeral, which was going to be held in two days. The hospital had called her when I was unconscious because she was listed as my emergency contact, following my dad of course. I wished I had the foresight to change that information after she left us years ago, that way I wouldn't be stuck with her here now, trying to run my life.

I hadn't been pleased when I saw her walk into my hospital room two days after my father had passed. She barked out orders to the nurses and insisted on seeing my doctor immediately, before she even came close to me to offer any sort of consolation. In fact, she skipped completely over the fact that I had been pregnant and acted like I was just sick or depressed because of my father's passing.

Even as I glanced into the kitchen and saw her smiling as she spoke to Marcus, I loathed her for acting like coming to Connecticut was a pain in the ass for her and my pregnancy was a blemish to her perfect little life.

"Stephanie, would you like any dinner?" Linda called out from the kitchen a little while later as I heard her going through the cupboards. "There's not much here, but I could probably get together some soup, or we could call out to that little Chinese place in town you always liked." Linda finished by coming into the room and stroking my hair softly, which caused me to cringe and recoil from her touch.

"They closed down China Star two months after you left Dad," I replied coldly.

"Oh… well that was a shame. I always enjoyed their food," she said simply, trying to sound upbeat about everything, which made my stomach roll. "I can always run down to the grocery store I suppose. It's still open this late, right?"

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to keep up your strength, Stephanie. You have to meet with the funeral home tomorrow for the final arrangements and then we have a visitation tomorrow night and the funeral the next day. Plus… it's not good for your…"

"You can say it, mother. It's not good for my healing after my miscarriage if I don't eat, but you know what? I honestly don't give a flying fuck," I exclaimed as I stood up and stared at her, my voice trembled and my entire body ached. "You come here, trying to play the part of my mother, which you gave up the right to do years ago, and I want to throw up. You're being fake and I wish Dad were here instead of you. I wish anyone was here instead of you," I replied in a monotone, almost bored voice. Though my mother frustrated me to no end, I couldn't find it in me to exert the energy needed to get furious with her.

"Sometimes you have to make difficult decisions in your life…"

"Like abandoning your family?" I snapped coolly.

"I didn't want to abandon you Stephanie, but I was unhappy living in Connecticut with your father. I wanted more from my life."

"You certainly got that, didn't you? How is Marcus these days, mother? Still keeping you accustomed to fancy cars, sparkly jewelry and black AMEX cards?"

"Regardless to what you believe, Stephanie, I am not with Marcus because of his money. I truly love him, in a much different way than I once loved your father."

"You never loved Dad! If you did, you never would have left him the way you did. Just go back to Chicago and leave me alone."

I stormed up the stairs, ignoring her sniffles and murmurs, as I sat down on my bed and clutched at my stomach again. The ache and soreness still remained, but more than anything, it was emptiness I felt at losing Vince, Paul and our baby, who never had a chance.

The day my mother arrived at the hospital was also the first day that Kate showed up. It seemed that Kate had called around to everyone I knew when Paul called her panicked at my disappearance.

Apparently on the first night Paul was worried when he couldn't find me and had thought the worst when all of my belongings remained, with the exception of my purse and rickety old truck, but I was missing. Kate finally called my mother and reached her just before she was about to leave for her red eye flight. Linda quickly filled Kate in on what was going on and Kate arrived late the next afternoon, but it wasn't with good news, or Paul, like I had been hoping.

My mother had already filled me in and told me that she had talked to Kate, so it was no surprise when she frantically came through my hospital room door, but the fact that she was alone and looked more heartbroken than me, did me in. I begged my mother to leave us alone for a few minutes and when the door closed quietly behind her, I looked imploringly at Kate.

"Just tell me."

"What if it makes things worse?"

"I can't see it getting any worse than this, Kate," I replied as I motioned with my hand to the shitty room I was stuck in. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

"I went this morning to see Paul and talk to him about everything, like where you had gone to and why you hadn't called," she said simply as she simultaneously reached into her bag and pulled out my cell phone charger. I was somewhat relieved to see it, but I had a feeling that being able to call Paul now wasn't going to make a difference to me. I just wished I had the presence of mind to have his number somewhere other than just in my dead cellphone. "He wasn't alone."

"Kate…" I implored as she sat down in the chair at my bedside and gripped my hand firmly. It was all too reminiscent of my father just days earlier, so I pulled my hand away and sat up straighter. I acted like I was ready to face whatever it was she had to tell me, but I knew I wasn't really. This was too much all at once.

"Fine. Like I said, he wasn't alone when I got there. I tried to call the number you had given me for him when you first moved in, but there was no answer, so I headed over there thinking he would just pack a bag and join me to come here. However, when I got to the building, I was buzzed in and met by some trashy skank dressed in virtually nothing who. Paul was passed out on the couch, with just a towel around his waist and the bitch acted like she owned the place."

I was speechless and even though I had cried for the past few days, I couldn't help but cry more, even though I hated myself for it. I had been gone for a few days, and sure I hadn't been able to contact him, but did he really have to resort to cheating on me?

No, there was no way Paul would go and have sex with someone else. That wasn't like him. Then again, neither was the fact the he was passed out and hanging with some girl I had never met or even heard of before. Was it possible that I didn't know Paul nearly as well as I thought I had?

"There were bottles of vodka everywhere and the black-haired bitch sat down beside his sleeping body and began to do lines off coke the coffee table. She was high as a fucking kite and kept asking me weird shit, none of which I understood. I tried to wake Paul up, but when he saw me, he had a freak out and locked himself in the bathroom. I knocked and tried to talk him out, but then another came in and began screeching at me and the bitch."

"What in the fuck?"

I was literally aghast with surprise, especially when she mentioned the cocaine. Kate came closer, wrapped her arm around my shoulder and held onto me tightly. "The girl was his sister Lynn, and she made me leave with the half naked bitch. She seemed to want to knock some sense into Paul, but I never had a chance to tell him who I was and why I was there. When I headed back to the city to get Garrett, we'll check in on Paul together and talk some sense into him. I'm sure this is all some big misunderstanding." Kate sounded so hopeful, but if I was being honest with myself, I didn't feel the same.

"I'm sure," I said sullenly as I pictured Paul lying on the couch, passed out. It was so unlike him that I couldn't quite figure out his motives for doing it. Why? Yeah, I had been gone four days and I hadn't been able to call him since I didn't know his number off by heart and my cell phone had been dead. Plus, I had been confined to the hospital bed for a few days, but if Kate said she would talk to him, I had to keep the faith.

That night Kate slept at a motel a few blocks away from the hospital, the same motel my mother was staying at actually. When they left, I plugged in my cell phone and as soon as I turned it on, it began chirping with the sound of text and phone messages. They were mainly from Paul, with a few from Kate as well.

_Steph, where are you? – P_

_Call me when you get this – P_

_Are you coming home tonight? – P_

_Jesus Steph, I'm starting to get worried. Where the fuck are you?_

They quickly became more and more frantic and tears welled up in my eyes as I thought about how much I had hurt him, but it had never been my intention. I just needed to get to my dad, and I would never regret spending those last few days with my father as he passed away, even if he didn't know I was there.

I listened to the voicemails, and each one grew more despondent and my heart ached for him, but it was the last one that killed me.

"_Steph, I have no idea where you are," _he slurred drunkenly as I heard giggling in the background and my body shivered in fear. What had he done?

"_Come back to bed, Paulie," _I heard a foreign voice chime out and I assumed this was the woman who Kate had mentioned seeing. _"Paul, come…"_

"_Fuck off, Joanie_," he shouted angrily. _"Stephanie… I loved you more than anything and you've hurt me, so I'm doing the only thing I can think of to hurt you." _Consider yourself successful, Paul. _"I hope you are happy with yourself, wherever the fuck you are. You were everything good in my life and you've fucking ruined it…and me."_

"_Paul, come with me…"_

"_If you don't come for your shit in the next few days I'm going to give it away to Goodwill."_ I could hear fumbling and something breaking in the background. I think Paul assumed he had hung up the phone, but he hadn't. "_Joanie, where the fuck is the coke? I need for everything to go the fuck away."_

I threw my phone on my ground, watching as it shattered into pieces, and one of the nurses came in, looking startled by the noise, to make sure I was okay. I brushed her off and she left with a small frown on her face, but I'm sure she was relieved I was all right, at least physically.

Inside, I was dying a little bit more.

"Stephanie, Kate is here," my mother announced from my bedroom door as she adjusted her long black dress so she looked impeccable. "She would like to drive you to the funeral."

"What does it matter?" I questioned as Kate appeared behind my mom, who quickly moved out of the way to let my best friend pass.

When Kate got back to Boston, she grabbed Garrett and headed over to Paul's apartment, hell bent on kicking the shit out of him. Unfortunately, what she found was even worse than the first time. Paul was high and destroying everything in the loft. Paintings were destroyed, covered in rips, paint and some were even burned. His sister, Lynn was trying to get him to stop, as Joanie, the whore was encouraging the madness claiming that it was freeing for him and would make him an even better artist. She was full of shit in my opinion.

Kate told me that she tried to confront Paul and tell him that he had gotten everything wrong about me and had assumed the worst, but he wouldn't listen to apparently called me every name in the book, accused me of using him simply for money and a place to live, and practically called me a whore. In fact, he probably did call me a whore, but Kate was being nice in her retelling of the encounter.

When she tried to explain that my phone was dead, he simply responded that I was dead to him and forced her out of the apartment. Lynn agreed to let Kate come back in a few days to get my belongings and he apologized for her younger brother. By the time she finished her story, I felt numb.

Much like how I felt hours before we were due to bury my father.

"I've lost everyone and everything that ever meant anything to me and the idea of going to celebrate my father's life just seems laughable to me. The man hasn't enjoyed life since _she_ walked out of it years earlier."

My mother scoffed and turned on her heel, walking downstairs where Garrett was waiting to usher us to the funeral home. Dad wasn't a very religious man, so a church service seemed redundant, and the funeral home in town really was the largest venue. Apparently, though my father lived a quiet life, he had many friends from the Mill and the town that wanted to pay their respects.

"Listen to me, Stephanie Marie McMahon," Kate said forcefully as she sat beside me on my bed and gripped my hands with hers. "Life may seem like utter shit right now, but you are not a quitter. You are strong, independent and smart as hell. Vince wouldn't want to see you waste your life away. You will get past all of this and be a better person for it. You may not see that today or even next month, but it will happen."

After the funeral, Kate went back to Boston and showed up three days later with all of my things from Paul's loft. My mother had stayed for a few days, but I was quick to usher her back to Chicago and out of my life again. It was clear when she left that she wanted to rekindle our mother-daughter relationship and there was no way I was ready for that.

I stayed in Connecticut for a little while and settled everything related to my father's estate. I was the beneficiary of everything, including a life insurance policy for $100,000 and the deed to his house, which was paid in full. Dad had a few small savings accounts and a 401K which all were left to me as well. By the end of February I had over $150,000 in my bank account after I had paid off all my bills that were overdue in Boston.

All I really wanted was my father back.

I spent my days sitting around his small house and reminiscing on happier times that we shared. Several times a week guys from the mill, or their wives, would show up to pay their respects again and offer casseroles and baked goods. It was oddly comforting to know that Dad had so many people that loved him, but then it made me wonder where those people were in his last few months. Vince died with no one, and I couldn't help but feel to blame for that. I should have been there, and I was also leading myself down a path just like his. If it wasn't for those random visitors and sporadic phone calls from Kate, I would have been alone constantly.

I cleaned out Dad's closet and cried my eyes out for hours afterwards, not realizing how heartbreaking it would be to pack away all this flannel shirts and work clothes. It was difficult to sort through his life and act like it was nothing of consequence. Vince had been my father, my rock, and was the most important person in my life. I only wished things could have been different in his final days.

The clothes were sorted and given to charity along with some kitchen appliances I would never use and some small dusty knick-knacks. I sold his old truck for a few hundred dollars and then sold mine to a restorer for almost a grand. I was sure he was getting a good deal, but I didn't care. I wanted it gone. With the money I had from Dad's estate, I bought myself a reliable used SUV.

As February turned into March, I touched base with my advisor at school, since I was technically still enrolled. She wanted me to finish my degree and though all I really needed to do was write my thesis, I couldn't find it in me to do it. I couldn't focus on writing or reading anything, let alone romantic poetry which would simply remind me of Paul.

I had tried my best to exorcise him from me, but some days it was easier said than done.

At night I would lie awake in bed, my hand on my stomach, and wonder how far along I would have been in my pregnancy. Would I be showing? Would we have had a boy or girl, and if so, what name would we have chosen?

I'd cry myself to sleep those nights and dream of Paul lavishly painting the nursery with bright colors and beautiful scenery filled with lifelike trees and little forest animals that looked practically real. It would be beautiful and perfect for our child. Then I would picture Joanie, the bombshell, holding our baby and I would wake up in a cold sweat, unable to calm my breathing. Regardless of whatever I tried, I always saw Paul holding our baby with other women. He was never with me.

Come July, I was ready for a major change of scenery. Connecticut felt stifling and I was finding myself bored out of my mind. Kate had been calling constantly trying to get me to visit her in Chicago, where she and Garrett had settled after he took the job he had been offered, but I was against the idea because it also meant potentially having to visit my mother and her husband.

However, when I suddenly began having nightmares every single night about Paul and our child, I decided I needed to do something.

I stayed with Kate and Garrett for a weeklong vacation, and the entire time she looked at me with concern and told me I needed to get out of Connecticut. She could see that I was wasting away, both my mind and body, in that small town and that it was unhealthy for me. She offered me the spare room and by Labor Day I had moved in, after heading home and packing up my stuff. I also managed to sell Dad's little house in Connecticut for a decent profit.

I wavered back and forth between enrolling in college to finish my degree or just finding a job to make it through the day. Down the street from Kate & Garrett's place, I found a part-time job in a small bookshop and it seemed to distract me enough that my nightmares subsided for a while.

However, on Thanksgiving I finally bowed to the pressure of my mother and agreed to a family dinner with her and Marcus. It was awkward and filled with family members from Marcus's family who I had never met before, so I exited early, but not before Marcus offered me a job at his firm. I swiftly turned him down.

My mother showed up at the bookstore one day right before Christmas and attempted once again to make amends. She invited me over for Christmas Eve dinner and though I didn't really want to go, I decided it was probably for the best. I wanted to give Kate and Garrett some space since I felt so much like a third wheel. At dinner, Marcus again offered me a job at his office, but I this time, deciding that I should try and make more money so I could move out of Kate's place, I accepted.

It was six months later that I first met Randy and my life continued its downward spiral.


	19. Chapter 19

**PPOV**

**November 2011**

"I was pregnant, Paul." Stephanie cried again, more violently this time, as I felt my fingers ball into fists and clench at my sides. "I didn't know it. We had been very careful, except a few times, but it didn't matter… it was an ectopic pregnancy, so even if we had been together, we couldn't have had it. It was just… a medical impossibility."

"You were… pregnant?" I asked, my voice tense as my teeth bristled roughly.

In all the times I had thought about what happened between us and why she had left me, I never once considered pregnancy or the death of her father as an issue. I had always thought I had done something that she didn't like or that I had been someone she couldn't be with. Perhaps I had been too much, too caring, too overbearing or too in love with her, and she left because of that. I always blamed myself, but really there was no one to blame.

"And you couldn't be fucking bothered to tell me?"

"The biggest regret in my life was not finding some way to call you after my cell phone died. I left the charger at the apartment and Kate only managed to find me when she decided to call my mother, who had been contacted by the hospital," Steph explained with tears pouring down her face as I fought the urge to scream at her.

"Why… just… why… didn't Kate come and get me?" I asked as I began to pace around the small room, pulling at my hair in frustration. This was way too much for me to handle.

Steph had been fucking pregnant with my child, one that she never would have been able to deliver, but I could have at least been there with her. "If she could have just come here or called me… I could have helped you… we could have dealt with… the losses… we could have done it together. Fuck!" I was livid at her for disregarding me in such a way. Sure, I was younger than her, but I was far more mature than she gave me credit for. I should have been there with her, helping her through everything, rather than being left alone and confused.

"Kate came here…" Steph paused and wiped some tears away; trying to gain some composure, as I looked at her shocked at the news that Kate had come looking for me. "It was a few days after I left that she came, because she didn't call my mother until just after I... after I was sick. Kate was hoping to bring you with her to come and see me… and she umm… she found some half-naked woman answering your door and you were passed out on the couch, so she left and came to Forks."

"She what?" I yelled as I pushed the canvas I had just been drawing on onto the floor, knocking down the easel with it. Motherfucking Joanie!

It had been three days after Stephanie left that I had first partied with her, but if I was being honest with myself, I didn't remember much for the next few weeks after that first night with her. I only knew what Lynn had told me, and that shit wasn't pretty. However, I couldn't believe now that Kate had tried to get me and I was….

"Kate came back with Garrett a few days later and you were even worse off than you were the first time she came. Lynn was trying to calm you down from whatever it was you were on. You also left me a rather 'colorful' voicemail telling me that you wanted me to hurt like just like you were hurting." Steph clutched tightly to herself again and her soulful eyes looked straight at me. I wanted to know the truth, but the more she spoke, the less I wanted to hear it. "In hindsight, I should have come back, but I wasn't in the right frame of mind to face you. It was all too much for me and then to have Kate tell me how she found you. I never thought... I just... I'm sorry."

"FUCK," I shouted as I stormed out of the room and Steph didn't follow. I thundered into the kitchen and began to search through all the cupboards for something, anything, to take the edge off. I couldn't handle this shit. I found my smokes buried in my coat pocket and immediately lit one, took a long drag and tried to find my breath. The cigarettes made me feel calmer, but not by much.

Stephanie hadn't meant to leave me; she was just trying to get to her father.

But instead he had died and she discovered he was pregnant with my baby; a baby we were never meant to have.

She tried to get to me, but I was so fucking busy being a self-destructive ass and snorting lines of coke up my nose, that I hadn't cared about anything else. I was probably high as a fucking kite and being ruined by Joanie as Stephanie lied in a hospital bed, dealing with two losses all on her own.

I was a piece of shit.

"I… I don't blame you," Steph declared softly as she came into the living room ten minutes later and found me perched on the couch, tears stained on my face. "I should have done my best to try and reach you, but I was so overwhelmed by everything going on with my dad, I couldn't think straight. I broke your heart; I get that. I just didn't think you would move on so soon."

"I didn't… I haven't."

"Who was she? A new model?" Steph asked tentatively, as she sat down beside me, leaving us feel like we were an ocean apart even though it was mere inches. I could tell Stephanie didn't want to know the answer, but since we were attempting to be honest, I felt like I had to tell her everything.

"She was a fellow classmate at school. She… Joanie… helped me forget everything… with coke." As if I wasn't ashamed before, I certainly was now.

"Oh."

"I never had sex with her, though not for a lack of her trying. I just… fuck. Do you know how much I wish I could go back in time and change everything? I wish I had been home earlier that day so I could have gone with you to Connecticut. I could have helped you with everything… your dad, the baby… everything. You shouldn't have had to deal with it by yourself."

"Kate arrived after I had the surgery to… you know… and she was with me when they told me I had lost one of my tubes, so it would be difficult for me to conceive in the long run. Not impossible, but difficult. Needless to say, I was pretty inconsolable," Stephanie explained softly. "I had never really thought about having kids, but knowing that I was pregnant with yours, and would never have it… it literally crippled me."

"I was so self-destructive when you left. I couldn't reach you…"

"My cell phone was dead."

"I didn't know where you had gone to…"

"I know."

"And I didn't have any contact information to reach anyone other than Kate…"

"I know, Paul. We were young, stupid and in love. We thought we were indestructible, but we were so wrong."

Young and stupid were right. I was both of those in spades. I was impatient and couldn't see the clouds through the trees since I spent all my time being self-destructive and self-loathing. One day. Twenty-four hours. If I had just waited one fucking day for Kate to come and talk to me all of this could have been avoided. God, I was so fucking stupid and young.

"I was such a fucking idiot. I should have known better, but I was so fucking immature and Joanie just... she kept me believing the lies I was feeding myself." I clutched at my hair and began rocking back and forth, angry at myself for making everything ten times worse than it should have been. I didn't even feel soothed as I felt Stephanie's hand against my back, rubbing softly and trying to reassure me.

"By the time I was able to contact you, I didn't want to anymore," Steph admitted remorsefully. "Kate told me what she had seen and I just thought… I assumed you had moved on, so I gave up on us. I should have had faith. I should have called anyway and told you what happened, but I couldn't. I'm so sorry…" Stephanie's tears came once more and this time I didn't hesitate the pull her against me and let her cry onto my shoulder.

"How did you end up with Randy?" I asked, though I was hesitant. I probably didn't want to know the answer to the question, but it was important to me.

"After I buried my dad, I stayed in Connecticut at his house for several months, which was also a bad decision since I just cried and was filled with self-hatred. It's not like I was going to come back to Connecticut, because I thought there was nothing there for me. I sent Kate to get my stuff and she met up with Lynn at your place a few days after the funeral to get it all."

"And I thought Kate liked me," I replied tensely as I brushed the back of my hand across my face, pushing away the tears. I still couldn't fathom the fact that I was almost a father – someone's dad – it was surreal to me.

"She did… until she saw you and that whore," Steph replied with a soft smile. "I had my own issues to deal with, she didn't think I could deal with yours... particularly the cocaine use." I groaned softly and berated myself internally because I knew those had been some of my darkest days. "I stayed in Greenwich for a few months, just barely getting by as I tried to come to terms with both the death of my dad and our baby…"

"Did you know if…" Steph looked at me confused and I realized I didn't really want to voice my thoughts. It would make everything even more real, if that was possible. "Was it a boy or a girl? Did you know?"

"It was... it was too early to tell. I was only a few weeks along."

"Oh… okay." I was silent after that, not sure of what to say. It probably would have made it infinitely harder if I had known. I let out a small sigh and Steph darted her eyes down, acting like she hadn't been watching my every move.

"Randy is my biggest mistake." She looked down at the bottom of her shirt and fiddled with the hem before she turned to look at me. "Kate invited me to live with her and Garrett in Chicago after I visited them in July. Garrett had accepted a job there that started in the winter and Kate moved shortly after graduation. I had nothing keeping me in Connecticut, so I sold my dad's old house and moved. My mother was attempting to fix our relationship and she insisted that I would get better if I was closer to her. In hindsight, I wish I had never moved."

"Why?"

"I met Randy through my mother about seven months after I moved to Chicago. He works at the firm that my stepfather Marcus is a partner at. Linda held a dinner party and was trying to set us up, and I really wanted nothing to do with him. My mother wouldn't shut up about how great he was and how I would be so happy if I just met him, but it wasn't like that. He actually made me feel a bit uncomfortable, but I think it was because he spent most of the night schmoozing Marcus." I snorted rudely, but it was just like Randy to ignore the girl for the job. Ever since he was small, it was his mission in life to be as successful as he could, stepping on anyone who got in his way. He was a bully and a complete asshole, and I was a little relieved Stephanie was out of his life. Regardless of what happened between us, she didn't deserve him. No one did.

"It was a few weeks later, while I was working part-time at the firm and taking legal assistant courses on the side, that I ran into him again and he asked me out."

"And you went."

"Actually I said no," Stephanie said softly. "Unfortunately, my mother called me a few hours later and practically forced me to agree to go."

"I just… I don't get why you are with him."

"I'm not anymore, remember?" Steph replied as she nudged my shoulder softly with hers, reminding me that she was here with me and not with him. Then again, it also reminded me of just how she ended up here and it made my blood boil.

"How could I forget?"

"My relationship with Randy started off a little rough, but as I got to know him he was a sweet-talker and he said all the right things." I cringed as Steph looked down again and I could hear her sigh as she gathered up her courage to tell me everything. "He kept long hours and usually only wanted to see me once or twice a week, which worked well for my self-loathing and depression. It kept Kate and Linda off my back about finding someone new and they thought I was moving forward."

"Were you?"

"Hardly. I was still hung up on you and what had happened. If anything, as things got worse between Randy and I, I decided that his treatment of me was just my punishment for losing our baby and hurting you like I did." I wanted to speak, but Steph was quick to silence me. "Just let me get this out, okay?"

"Okay," I replied softly, as my mind moved a mile a minute as I tried to fathom just how hopeless she saw her life if she thought being used and treated like shit by Randy was her punishment. No one deserved that, especially Steph. I could see how everything that happened wasn't solely her fault, we both played integral parts to our downfall, and I needed her to realize that. She needed to realize that.

"We had probably been together just over two years when we had our first threesome... with one of other attorneys at the firm. We were all drunk, at a company event and things just got out of hand." I ground my teeth together roughly as she continued. "Next time it was with another couple and Randy mainly watched and told us what to do. He loved to be in control. I just felt like I deserved to be treated the way he was treating me."

"How many more times?" I asked through clenched teeth as Steph let out another sigh, this one followed by tears.

"I don't remember. The last one was right before we were engaged. It was him and I at first while away on a company retreat with some of the other partners and attorneys. I was so drunk I didn't even notice the second guy or the third. All I remember were hands being everywhere, all over me. I felt deserving of the pain that was inflicted on me. It was just one big blur." Steph's tears began to fall harder and I rubbed her lower back, remembering how much she used to love that. As much as I wanted to hate her for letting things get so far, but she was so fucked up in the head, believing that she deserved everything she was given at the hands of Randy, I couldn't hate her. I needed to protect her.

"This one... there was... he taped it and when I threatened to leave him last night, he promised that the tape would ruin me and he would show it to everyone. I tried to get it from him when he ripped my shirt."

"That piece of shit," I uttered darkly as I felt Stephanie's small hand grip my forearm. "Regardless of the shit you think, no one should be treated like Randy has treated you. No one."

"I've left him and to be honest, I don't care what becomes of the tape," she said succinctly as I reached up tentatively and pushed the remaining tears off her cheek. "I've decided to try and make a new life and it won't include toxic people like Randy, Linda or even Marcus. I need to start fresh."

That was honestly the best thing I had heard her say all day.

"Speaking of that… I talked to Gordon and he's willing to go get your stuff from the hotel," I replied as Steph gave me a small smile that quickly turned into a frown. "Don't worry, Gordon doesn't assume that it will be easy, but if anyone could put the fear of god into Randy, it's Gordon. I'll also mention the tape to him. Maybe he can manage to get it from Randy so it can be destroyed. In the meantime, you can stay here until you get back on your feet, alright?"

"That's… it's much too nice of you, Paul. I do have some money of my own, saved up from when my dad passed, but it's all in investments that Randy thought would be safe. I can't access it easily."

"Well, it's not like the place is being used," I remarked casually, reminding Steph that I didn't live here anymore and the place was all hers. "You can get in touch with my mom and maybe she can find you a decent rental or something."

"Yeah, maybe," Steph replied as I watched her look down at her feet, clearly anxious. "When did you move?"

"When I got out of rehab," I admitted tentatively as Steph gave me a tiny smile. "I was a wreck for a few weeks, and even now I barely remember any of it. Lynn kicked my ass and shielded my parents from everything, because they would have had a fucking shit fit if they knew I was an addict."

"I'm glad Lynn helped you."

"Yeah, me too. Without her who knows where I would be right now. Probably dead," I said without thinking as I felt Stephanie tense beside me. "I'm sorry."

"No... It's fine. You are probably right. I just hate to think of the thought of losing you now that... you know, now that I've found you again." Steph seemed so hopeful for a moment that I couldn't help but offer her the first smile I'd had since I saw her last night. "Umm… now that you know… every single depressing and depraved moment of it, do you think…I mean… shit."

"You want to know if there's a chance for us, don't you?" Steph simply nodded as I let out a deep breath. "I'll be honest… I have no idea."

"Just cause… if there's no chance, I should probably go back to Chicago."

Please review! :-)


	20. Chapter 20

**SPOV**

**May 2008**

"Stephanie, I haven't asked much of you since you moved to Chicago, have I?" my mother asked one afternoon as we met for coffee downtown. I shook my head, knowing full well she was about to give me some sort of guilt trip or ask me something I would cringe at. It was usually how things worked and I never said yes to her, but I had a feeling this time she wouldn't take no for an answer. "I'm throwing a very important dinner party next week for some friends and associated of Marcus. We would really love it if you could come."

In my head I was already saying no as I pictured the awkwardness of the night – her introducing me to friends as though we had a close mother/daughter relationship, me hating the dress she shoved me into and her getting drunk as Marcus leered at me – who wouldn't love that? This was the fourth such event that my mother had invited me to and I had always declined. Though I hated to do it, I knew it would get her off my back if I said yes, and I wouldn't have to go to another one for the foreseeable future.

"Sure," I replied coolly as Linda's face lit up like a Christmas tree and Fourth of July fireworks combined. "I'll have to dig around to see if I have something to wear. Knowing you and Marcus, I am assuming this is a formal event?"

"Don't worry about it, Stephanie. I'll send a few things that I think are appropriate to your place later in the week."

"No, really. You don't need to do that," I urged, already cringing at the thought of the hideous gowns she would send. She was trying desperately to hook me up with some of the younger associates that worked at Marcus's firm and it was really the last thing I wanted. If I was going to hate the evening, I could at least be comfortable.

"Have a little faith in me, please. I'll send some things by Wednesday and if you don't like anything, you can pick something else out, alright?"

"Fine," I huffed like a petulant child as Linda gave me a small smile, clearly proud of herself for wearing me down. I knew deep down inside that she was trying as best as she knew to mend fences with me, but it was difficult at best. I knew I needed to try a little more with her, but I also had to be willing, and I wasn't 100% ready for that.

Three days later, as I came home from work I found a large box sitting on my bed and Kate was beaming from ear to ear. "Open it," she said excitedly as she clapped her hands together. "It's from JPG."

"What?"

"Jean-Paul Gaultier. Only one of the most iconic fashion designers ever," she boasted as I kicked off my shoes and looked at the white box with trepidation. "I don't care what the dress looks like, or if you think your mother is attempting to buy your love, you are keeping it."

"What if it's a hideous animal print?"

"Keeping it."

"Horizontal stripes that make me look fat?"

"Keeping it."

"Brown suede and fringe?"

"You are fucking keeping it, Stephanie." I groaned at my best friend and lifted the lid off the box hesitantly, unsure of what the hell I would find, but I was happily surprised. Inside was a plum colored tulle halter maxi-dress, well according to the tag, that was rich in color and very beautiful. "Told you."

"Shut it," I snapped back as I dug around and found a pair of Manolo Blahnik slide sandals that would match perfectly to the dress.

"Fuck, I wish Linda was my mother," Kate commented off-handedly as she appraised the gifts with a huge grin. I couldn't help but feel my heart sink into my stomach at her words though. I wished I had anyone else as a mother, but Kate was being swayed with the extravagant gifts. "Well, not really cause she's a royal bitch, but I would take the dress with a smile on my face."

"You can have it when I'm done with it on Saturday night. Don't you and Garrett have some wedding to go to in a few weeks, it would be perfect."

"Yeah and show up the bride? No thanks," Kate giggled as I hung up the dress and slipped the shoes away, closing the closet door. "So how was work?"

I had finally accepted Marcus's offer to work at his firm, but it was nothing exciting. I was currently covering a maternity leave for one of the receptionists who would be back in three months, but Marcus was trying to convince me to stay on. He even offered to pay for legal assistant classes if I was willing. It wasn't exactly my life long dream, but I didn't want to have to pull from my savings every day and I wanted to try and make it on my own.

Kate & Garrett had been awesome friends to let me stay with them for a while, but I needed my own place and they needed privacy. As I sat with Kate on the couch that night, eating ice cream and watching stupid reality TV, I decided to just accept Marcus's offer and really start to move on with my life. It was the least I could do, right?

Saturday night I found myself with a champagne glass in my hand as I silently regarded all the people at my mother's dinner party. Lots of lawyers, both young and old, with the wives, mistresses and girlfriends who were twenty years their junior, circulated around the room like they were all entitled to the overprices champagne and crudités that were being offered.

I stayed clear of my mother after I arrived, making sure she knew I had done my duty, but once everything appeared to be completely handled by the hired staff, she made sure to come and find me. That was when the evening took a turn for the worse. I was introduced to virtually every person in the room, especially the single males, and by the time dinner was served my hand was cramping from shaking so many people's hands.

I scoped out the name cards on the table, done in perfect calligraphy, and sat down in my assigned seat, which was across from my mother and beside Marcus, who was at the head of the table. I quickly glanced down the table to see the other attendees, but as I turned away, I felt a hand grasp mine.

"I don't think we've had a chance to meet yet," declared the smooth voice as I felt him raise my hand and kiss the back of it. Needless to say, I pulled it away quickly.

"Oh, Randy, I couldn't find you earlier," Linda exclaimed as she interrupted us. "This is my daughter Stephanie. The one I was telling you about." Oh god, I cursed as I closed my eyes tightly. I literally feared how many people she had talked to about me. Surely the figures were staggering because Linda was never one to do anything half-assed, unless it was parenting or being married to my father.

"Linda, her beauty doesn't do justice to what you told me," Randy claimed. I'm sure this is where I should have been swooning and giggling, but instead I grabbed the arm of a passing waiter and asked for a double shot of whisky. This night was going to be longer than I thought possible.

For the next two hours, Linda and Randy chatted amiably between themselves about me. It was like Linda was a fucking ad for or some shit like that. She told Randy all about my college life, moving to Chicago and my current job working for Marcus. Of course, she left out the parts about my father dying, me losing the love of my life and our baby, and my subsequent depression, but those were black spots to her. She wanted to focus on the positive.

Every so often, Randy would look to me for some sort of confirmation of a fact my mother had spewed, but I simply nodded my head and contributed as little as possible to the conversation as possible. Unfortunately, the moment I heard mention of July 4th and the possibility of a date, my ears perked up.

"What was that?" I asked, as I pushed my leftover dinner around my plate aimlessly. Of course Linda frowned at me, both for the lack of manners and for not paying attention.

"Marcus has invited Randy to the lake house for our July 4th festivities, which you have already agreed to attend, Stephanie," my mother said sternly, reminding me once again why I should have said no to dinner tonight.

"That's nice."

"But I was just saying that I would also like to take you out for dinner before then, Stephanie," Randy continued as I whipped my head around to stare at him straight on.

At any other time in my life, I probably would have found Randy attractive. He had dark blue eyes, dark hair and a decent smile, but he was the opposite of everything I liked.

"Oh… I'm flattered, really, but I'm um… I'm not looking to date right now," I replied nervously as my mother glared at me, anger clear on her face. Randy nodded and gave me my mother a sweet smile. I felt buoyed that I had stood up for myself and rejected his offer, but it was short lived.

Later that evening, as I prepared to leave, Randy found me and cornered me before I could slip unnoticed out the door.

"I respect that you aren't looking to date, Stephanie," he said forcefully as he leaned in close. "I'm just not one to be easily dissuaded from getting something that I want."

With that, Randy was gone.

**January 2009**

One night I was working late at the office, when Randy walked by my bosses' office and saw me perched at his desk.

"Does Diego know you are working in his office, alone, this late at night?" he asked as he leaned against the doorjamb and I did a double take, surprised to see him standing there. Though I often saw Randy around the office, I usually made sure to steer clear of him and we hadn't really talked since the July 4th party at the lake house.

"Randy. Oh… yes, Diego gave me permission to work here. I'm doing a little research for him actually."

"That's good to know. I would hate to look like an idiot," Randy declared as he came in and sat in the plush leather armchair directly across from me. "What are you researching?"

"Information for the Planation Project," I admitted as I typed away relentlessly, hoping that Randy would go away, but I wasn't that lucky.

"You know it's not safe working here alone at night, right?"

"I've been doing it for weeks, Randy. I think I will be fine."

"Will you go out with me?" Randy said bluntly, catching me off guard as I stopped typing and tried to catch the breath that had escaped me.

"I just…"

"Don't say no," he asked again, his voice practically begging. "There's a company event at the end of the month, why don't we go together and I can show you I'm not some complete asshole workaholic. I'll be the perfect gentleman, I promise." I nodded slowly, deciding that Randy had to be somewhat harmless if he worked for Marcus. Plus, what was the worst that could happen during a company function?

**July 2009**

Ah, the trials of dating an up and coming lawyer, I think as I rolled my eyes and slip out of the car. Randy was at my side, beaming like he just won the damn lottery, as he wrapped his arm possessively around my waist and led us into the beautiful estate where the dinner was being held.

I finally went out with Randy seven months ago and though I was nervous at first, things went better than I expected. He was blunt and straightforward with me, and I knew his career came first, which I honestly didn't mind. I liked being second best. Hell, I deserved it.

It had been over two years since my life fell apart and though I tried not to think about it, I couldn't help but let the darkness overwhelm me sometimes. Randy didn't seem to notice when I would have these moments since he was rarely around. I liked that too. I was able to get my mother off my back about settling into a relationship with a 'nice young man' and all my friends felt like I was moving forward. If anything, I was stagnant and self-destructive.

I tried to banish the thoughts of my past as Randy squeezed me into his side.

The firm had recently won a very huge settlement and in celebration they were having a dinner at the country estate of Robert Thompson, an original partner of the firm. We drove over an hour to the small town and checked into a local bed and breakfast, which Randy insisted on staying overnight at. He saw this as a mini-vacation, I saw it as yet another obligation of the firm.

"Remember, keep smiling and play nice with your mother tonight, please?"

"When do I ever not play nice with Linda?"

"Always," he replied stoically as we paused by the door and he rubbed his hands down my arms slowly. "This is a major night for me. Being on the team that reached this settlement was a huge step in the right direction for my career and I'd like to celebrate that."

Randy and I had rarely seen each other over the past few months as he worked his ass off on this particular case. He enjoyed that he was working side by side with Marcus and he came off as very loyal to the company, though I knew he would backstab them in a heartbeat if a better opportunity came along. Randy's main focus in life was climbing to the top as quickly as possible, and I knew I was just another step to the top – dating the boss's daughter – so to speak. However, I let out a small sigh and decided to simply follow Randy's lead for the evening. He deserved a break after all of his hard work.

"I'll be fine."

"You better be," I heard him mumble under his breath as we finished our steps up the stairs and we were welcomed into the home by Robert and his much younger, by almost 35 years, wife Afton.

"Stephanie, Randy, we are so glad to have you," she gushed as I nodded my head and we shook hands amiably, my brain still trying to process what the heck Randy had meant with his last comment. Randy plastered on his usual 'business' smile and suddenly we were thrust into the dinner party and I found myself wishing I was anywhere else, with anyone else.

Early evening faded into night as people milled about, cockily discussing their exuberance at the settlement and growth of the company. Randy was in his element, schmoozing and ass-kissing the key players in the firm, as I remained at his side diligently, nodding my head or smiling when necessary. My mother and I exchanged pleasantries, but she was more interested in chatting with all her girlfriends, than talking shop like Randy was. I wasn't interested in either. I would have rather been back at my apartment with a glass of wine and a warm bath.

Shortly after dinner, as I downed my fourth glass of wine, Randy turned 'handsy' rather quickly. The dining room table hid his hands as they pushed the hem of my cocktail dress up far enough so that he could stroke the fabric between my legs. It also resulted in a reproachful frown from him, since he had specifically told me to go without panties and I hadn't listened.

"We'll discuss it later," he practically growled as he forced his fingers inside of me and I gripped the edge of the table, trying in vain to hold up a conversation with Afton about her oversized and gaudy chandelier. I pretended to come, just so Randy could stop and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment as he licked his fingers at a table filled with colleagues.

Once dinner was adjourned, most of the men opted for cigars, as I wandered into the hallway to see some of the original paintings Robert had on the wall. I was deeply focused on a painting of a nude woman draped on a settee as visions of my past with Paul flooded my mind.

_"Can you lie down?"_

_"On my back or stomach?"_

_"Stomach." I repositioned myself as he had asked, feeling a bit awkward at first._

_"Where you want my hands?" I asked as I felt his hands move leisurely along my shoulder, his fingers gripping the silk of the robe and pulling it down. I shivered; Paul licked his lips. Fuck, this was going to be a rough session if he kept this shit up._

_"Reach them up onto the arm of the settee." Once again, I followed suit and Paul slipped his hand beneath the robe, untying the sash and pulling it free. "I changed my mind, can you kneel a bit?"_

_I moaned wantonly as I felt his hand move against my bare back while I moved myself onto my knees, with my hands grabbing onto the arm of the settee in front of me. Paul moved around the settee in what seemed like slow motion, mumbling under his breath as I remained in place and aroused as hell. I could hear him adjusting lighting and flittering about, but when everything grew silent, I became worried. I lifted my head slightly to find Paul behind me motionless._

_"What's wrong?"_

_"Nothing," he growled as I watched him grab at his hair and pull on it roughly. "Fuck."_

_"What? Am I in the wrong position?" I asked, concerned, as I watched Paul stalk forward again._

_"No...fuck no. Not at all." Suddenly, I felt his hand against my lower back, sliding backwards along my ass, until his calloused and paint stained fingers found my slit._

_"Oh, Jesus," I groaned as my back arched slightly, giving Paul the encouragement he seemed to seek. The verdict was still out regarding whether my man was a virgin or not, because his fingers were doing such delicious things to me, I assumed he had to be experienced. They slid up and down effortlessly through my wetness, flicking and rubbing at my clit as I heard his labored breaths behind me._

_"I've never wanted to do something more than I've wanted this," Paul explained through a moan as I felt his thumb rub against my clit roughly as his index finger slipped inside of me. "Not even painting. I had to touch you, Steph."_

"It's a remarkable piece, isn't it?" an unknown voice asked as I stayed silent. "The woman reclining with simply her shoes and stockings. It's all very erotic. I heard Robert paid a pretty penny for this at auction several years ago."

"It's lovely."

"Gustave Courbet is the artist." I simply nodded, unsure of how to respond because this man wasn't really asking me a question; he was just showing how much he knew about art. I also didn't feel overly comfortable discussing art with a complete stranger. "You're Stephanie, Randy's girlfriend and Marcus' daughter, correct?"

"I'd like to think that Stephanie is a little more than simply my girlfriend," Randy replied as he interrupted, strolling up beside me to wrap his heavy arm possessively around my shoulder. "Stephanie, I see you have met Brady."

"Pleased to meet you," I said quietly as I extended my hand and Brady held it for a bit too long, his fingers stroking the inside of my palm. "I'm assuming you work at the firm?"

"Yes, I handle the needs of our larger corporate clients. If I heard right, you are now working as a legal assistant down in the environmental law division?" I nodded softly, as I found myself wondering where Brady had learned so much about me. "She's more beautiful than you told me."

Brady was staring at Randy as he spoke, who was grinning like a cheshire cat. I looked up at him, my eyes a bit glassy from the wine as he turned his head and kissed me roughly against my lips. Before I could even comprehend was happening, Randy, Brady and I were behind closed doors as they both kissed my neck and kneaded my breasts enthusiastically.

My hands fell to my side as Randy unzipped my strapless dress, letting it puddle on the floor as I felt their hands moved over virtually every inch of my body. Brady stepped away for a moment, doing god knows what, as Randy kissed his way up the side of my neck and began to whisper softly in my ear.

"I need you to do this for me, Stephanie."

**I know its kind of a filler chapter, and not much Steph/Paul interaction but please review to let me know you want me to update.**


	21. Chapter 21

**PPOV**

**November 2011**

"Chicago? What happened to starting fresh?" I asked surprised as Steph jumped slightly at the increased volume of my voice. I just couldn't fathom why in the hell she would want to go back to Chicago. There was nothing left there for her, right? Or were there still some pieces missing to the puzzle?

"Well, truthfully I would probably move somewhere completely different, but I would need to go back to Chicago to get my affairs in order, you know?" she replied, the lilt to her voice soft and sad. "It's just... it would be too hard to stay in Boston without you, and I can't live in Chicago again."

"Where would you go?" I asked curiously as I watched her sit back against the couch and tuck her legs close under her again. I was glad to see that not everything had changed with her over the past few years.

"Well, with Boston, Chicago and Connecticut out of the picture. I'd probably like something near water, since I've had it around me my entire life." I nodded my head softly in understanding as my heart sunk into my chest slightly.

Even though I wasn't sure I was ready to be with Steph again, all of my emotions were far too raw and my life too unsettled, I didn't know if I wanted her moving across the country either. It was a slippery slope I was treading and I knew it. Either I had to let her go, or I had to see what we could salvage of what we used to have. Just as I was about to speak, Steph's stomach began to rumble and I quickly remembered the food I had in the cupboard.

Standing together in the kitchen, it felt much smaller than it really was. We fixed some toast with peanut butter and then each of us grabbed a glass of milk before settling back in the living room.

I watched Steph intently as we ate in silence and I tried to weigh all my options regarding her previous question. At the heart of it, it was a simple choice: either I wanted to be with Steph again or I didn't. I took a sip of my drink and looked at her from the corner of my eye, watching as she licked some peanut butter from her bottom lip.

She had been through a lot of shit in the past few years, but the crux of it all was that I couldn't help but think that she was still the same girl I was madly in love with for a few short months. She seared herself into my heart on the very first day I met her, and if I am being honest with myself, I've never truly let go of her. I tried, oh how I had tried to move on, but I had never truly let myself be with anyone else again.

Steph was it for me, I knew that, but I also couldn't help that niggling voice in the back of my head reminding me how completely she had broken me. Between the loss of our baby, her father and her appalling behavior with Randy, I wasn't sure I could move past everything. I didn't know how.

"Are you alright?" Steph asked, as she finished her toast and put her crumb-filled plate on the coffee table. "You seem tense."

"Yeah... just thinking."

"About?"

"Everything really," I admitted anxiously as I rested my plate on top of hers and then gripped the hair at the nape of my neck. Steph gave me a soft smile, trying to ease my nervousness, but it only made things worse. She was trying so hard to be nice and sweet, but suddenly all I could picture was her with Randy and two other men. My stomach immediately turned.

"You can ask me anything and I'll tell you the god's honest truth. I want us to be able to move past everything," she said simply as I watched her nervously wring her hands together as she curled her legs up under her again and faced me on the couch.

"What is your biggest regret?"

"I wish I had scrawled out a note to you, or had kept my cell phone charged," she replied cautiously.

"You never had your cell charged, Steph," I replied, giving her a small smile. "Five years of time apart could have been avoided if you had just been able to contact me. I know how you felt like you needed to be there for your dad, but I wish you could have felt like you could have relied on me and waited until I got home. I would have gone with you."

"I never thought about it at first. My only instinct was to get to my dad. He was my sole focus until he died and then it just became about surviving for me. It didn't help matters that you had your gallery showing coming up and I knew you were overwhelmed. I just... I didn't know what to do," she said softly as my eyes grew wide in surprise. Was that why she didn't contact me? She thought that my showing was more important than her?

"Fuck the gallery showing, Steph. I ended up destroying all of the artwork and the showing was cancelled anyways," I admitted as I watched Steph frown once again. "I didn't love anything more than I loved you. I would have dropped everything to have helped you... to have been with you."

"I loved you too," she said quietly as I shook my head startled by her admission. Never, in all the time we were together, did she ever say the word love. It literally made my heart and my bones ache to know that she loved me too. "I know I never said it to you in our time together, but you... you were everything to me. I love you so fucking much, but I was so scared of ending up like my parents," she stammered as she began to cry again. "I didn't want to lose you, and I ended up fucking us up ten times worse than I ever imagined I could."

I couldn't help myself at that point, I reached over and grabbed Steph's hand, pulling her into my lap, as my arms encircled her tightly. Her body shook underneath my touch, the sobs overwhelming her. I should have been angry and yelled at her for finally admitting that she had been in love with me, but I couldn't get past the fact that she said she loved me, as in present tense.

"Where do you think we would have been if we hadn't lost all that time together?" she asked as she lifted her head from my chest and tried to wipe the tears away from her reddened cheeks.

"Fuck, that's a hard question," I replied slowly, unsure of how to answer her. "I honestly don't know. Back then, I wanted everything with you. The big elaborate wedding, little babies, a house with a white picket fence and a dog. I used to be able to picture our future clearly back in the early days. Now though... it's not so easy to see."

"After I got released from the hospital, I used to dream that we had the baby and you painted a huge mural on the nursery wall, an outdoor forest scene, and our lives were perfect. You painted and I wrote. Then I would generally morph into any other woman and you would be so happy with your family – the family _we_ should have had – that I would wake up in cold sweats."

"Oh, Steph," I replied as I brushed her hair back from her face. It was clear as day that after everything, she wasn't in the right place for us to reunite, even if I did want to. She needed some counseling to get past the abandonment she felt from her mother, the abuse she suffered from Randy and most importantly, the loss she felt at losing Vince, me and our baby at the same time. "I think you should stay in Boston."

"Really?" she asked, her voice high and teeming with excitement.

"You can continue to stay in the loft, but I think you should see a psychologist or something. Hell, maybe we should go together." I could feel Steph tense as I kept my hand against her lower back, attempting to ground her to me. "I should have done it a long time ago, but I have this feeling that we can't move forward, if we can't let go of the past. That's what you want, isn't it? To move forward?"

"Yes, more than anything."

At lunchtime, Lynn touched base with me to let me know he was heading over to the hotel. Mom had called and informed Lynn that she was going house hunting with Randy, so Gordon thought it was best to attempt to get Steph's stuff while Randy was gone. I was hesitant about it all, for obvious reasons. I just didn't trust Randy and after what Stephanie had told me about him, I hated his guts even more.

I didn't help Gordon's frame of mind when I told him about the existence of a DVD. I was leery about the possibility of getting it, because if Randy was a smart man, he probably had the disc in a safe, making it ten times more difficult. Gordon sounded confident, albeit angry, and told me not to worry. He insisted that I focus on taking care of Steph, and even suggested that if I wasn't ready yet, that Lynn would be willing to come and spend time with her. I turned him down though. It wasn't hard to take care of Steph since she was fast asleep on the couch with a blanket thrown over her.

Gordon promised to contact me as soon as he was out of the hotel, so I simply grabbed an old sketchbook and began to draw random pictures of a sleeping Stephanie. It was oddly cathartic, drawing pictures of her, and before I knew it, it had been over two hours since I started. I had no idea how Steph had slept so long, but then I recalled her tossing and turning the night before. She had barely slept and talking about our issues and history, had probably exhausted her. If I hadn't been so keyed up about hearing back from Gordon, I probably would have been asleep too.

As I went to begin drawing again, my cell phone went off beside me, and I excitedly picked up it.

"How did things go?" I asked anxiously as I began tapping my graphite pencil against my leg. "Did you manage to get everything?"

"Huh? Get what?" I heard Leah's voice ask and I tensed up. Shit. I was hoping it had been Gordon on the other end of the phone.

"Sorry, I thought you were my brother in law," I explained as I heard Leah give a small sigh. Our night together had gone well enough, but I was really surprised she was calling so soon. "So um... how are you doing?"

"I'm good, I suppose," she replied awkwardly as I heard her shush someone behind her and I suddenly felt confused. "Listen, my mother is having a dinner at their condo downtown next week and she would like me... actually she is insisting, that I invite you." Leah breathed a big sigh of relief as I looked back to the couch and saw Steph waking from her nap. Shit.

"Oh um... Is Lynn invited? Is this something work related?" I questioned coolly. I was unsure where this invitation, or the pressure from her mother, was coming from.

"No, just you. My mother thought that since we were becoming friends, it would be nice to have dinner."

"Oh."

"Listen, I get that we are just doing the friends thing and all, so feel free to say no, but I think it could be fun." Leah continued to talk to me, but I looked over at Stephanie, who gave me a small smile before she motioned to the bathroom. As she walked away, I tried to focus on Leah, but it was so hard. Dinner with her parents was really the last thing I wanted. "So what do you think?"

"About what?" I asked quickly, clearly forgetting that I was supposed to be paying attention to her.

"Dinner and maybe heading out to a movie afterwards. I promise I won't let my mother pressure you about us dating or anything like that."

"I just don't think that's a good idea next week. I've got a lot going on right now," I said stoically as Leah let out a small snort.

"That didn't seem the case last night," she replied tersely. I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes, trying hard not to get angry with Leah because nothing was her fault. She just had the absolute worst timing ever.

"Something happened after the movie last night and I have to take care of something over the next few weeks. It's just not a good time to be having dinner with your parents," I answered simply, hoping like hell I was placating her. Leah was a wonderful girl and I knew she would be a good friend; I just didn't have the time to get in the middle of something with her. It wasn't fair to her and I refused to string her along.

"Oh... okay. Well, if you need someone to vent too or want to have coffee, you know where to find me." I looked up and saw Steph standing by the bathroom door, her eyes about to tear up, as she listened to my end of our conversation. "Anyways, I should get going. The gallery is actually pretty busy today."

"That's great. I'll be in touch soon, Leah." The moment I hung up the phone, Stephanie walked into the bedroom and shut the door quietly.

Great. Just fucking great.

I couldn't handle this drama.

Thirty minutes later Gordon buzzed at the door, which surprised me since he was supposed to call first. When I went downstairs to let him in, he was out of breath and looked a little worse for the wear. He was also not alone.

"Paul, this is Phil. Phil, my brother Paul." I nodded my head and looked at the men before me. Phil looked vaguely familiar. "Phil is a locksmith and one of my best contractors. He did me a huge solid today, so you owe him one. Actually, you owe him about $500 dollars, but we'll get to that later." Gordon pushed passed me, pulling two oversized suitcases behind him as Phil carried a carryon bag.

"What in the fuck? Why do I owe him $500?" I asked as we loaded into the elevator and it moved slowly up to the loft. "No offence."

"None taken," Phil replied, his voice deep and serious. "However, it took a lot more effort to crack open that safe in the hotel room without causing damage to it. Gordon said he wanted it to look like no one had been there. That takes finesse and time. I didn't have time."

"Woah... wait. Does that mean you have the DVD?" I asked, clearly excited as we stepped off of the elevator and I heard the bedroom door open as Stephanie walked out, still dressed in my oversized clothes.

"Thank you Gordon, so much," she said simply as she stepped towards him and gave him a gentle hug while she appraised what he had managed to salvage. "You are wonderful, really."

"Well, I couldn't beat the shit out of the asshole...yet, but I figured I could beat him at his own game. He left about 5 minutes after we got there, we saw him leave from the lobby. I managed to get all of your stuff while Phil here retrieved the tape from the safe." Stephanie's mouth fell open and she looked between Gordon and me as Phil reached into the carryon bag he was holding and produced a DVD case marked 'Stephanie M'. A big sigh of relief echoed between Steph and I.

"Oh my god, you are absolutely the best!" Stephanie declared as she hugged Phil and Emmett, her smile bright and her eyes wide. I hadn't seen her this happy since she came back into my life last month. "You have no idea how big of a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. This is just... it's fucking fabulous, really."

"I'd do anything for my brother in law, so don't worry about it, Steph." Gordon was sincere as he could get as he pushed her luggage further into the room. "I'm just hoping you stick to your guns and stay the fuck away from Randy. He may be Lynn's cousin, but I have no qualms about kicking his ass in a dark alley someday."

"Thanks, Gordon." Steph blushed dark pink across her cheeks and then pulled her luggage into the bedroom as Gordon grabbed my arm and pulled me into the kitchen.

"Listen, things didn't go as smoothly as I would have hoped. As we were leaving, Randy was coming back in with Mom to the hotel for a quick lunch. She called out to me, surprised to see me at the hotel."

"Fuck."

"Yeah, Phil took the bags and I played it off like I had just finished a business lunch with a potential client, but Randy was very suspicious. You and Stephanie need to steer clear of him and lay low. I think you should head into work and get back to the everyday shit. I'll have Lynn come to hang out with Steph if she wants the company. Sound good?"

Gordon was always the voice of reason, and he certainly wasn't failing me now. He was right that it would look odd if I wasn't at work or my apartment either. I had to make it appear like everything was normal in my life, even if it wasn't. Appearances were everything.

"Thanks man. You really are a lifesaver." I wrote out a check to Phil and when the guys left the loft, I found myself determined to keep Steph safe, which meant acting like everything was completely normal in my life. First thing, was to get back to work.

I cleaned up my art supplies and made Stephanie and I both a quick sandwich before I gathered my stuff to leave. When she came out of the bedroom, I motioned to the sandwich on the counter and she gave me a brief smile. "I need to head into work."

"Will you be back today?"

"I don't know...maybe. Gordon said if you want, he can have Lynn come over for a little bit to hang out with you, she's on maternity leave. He's worried about backlash from Randy and thinks it's best if I try and make it seem like everything is normal." I slipped my coat on as I watched Steph toss herself roughly onto the couch, her eyes never moving from mine. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah."

"If it's any consolation, I really don't want to go. It's just...I need to keep you safe."

"Who is Leah?"

"A friend."

"Dinner with the parents sounds a lot more serious than friends."

I grabbed at my hair and my entire body tensed. "Leah is a friend, nothing more. Her parents are clients of Lynn's firm and we are friendly with them. She is not my girlfriend and I'm not interested in her in that way. That's it."

"Okay." Stephanie stood up and headed into the kitchen to grab the sandwich I had left for her. "How do I contact you?"

"Call me on my cell phone. You still have yours, right?" Steph nodded softly and I couldn't help but walk towards her and offer her a small hug. "Keep your phone off and only contact me when you have to. I don't trust Randy. Also, make a grocery list and then text it to me. I can pick up some stuff for you tonight and either drop it off then or in the morning."

"The sooner the better, right?"

"Yeah, right." I turned to leave when I felt Steph's small hand grab my coat.

"Can you um... get some numbers for those doctors you want us to meet? We should do that soon too." I nodded and quietly made my way to the elevator before I heard Stephanie speak again. "Thanks Paul. For everything."


	22. Chapter 22

**SPOV**

**November 2011**

"Where are you?" Kate asked, as we spoke briefly on the phone for the first time since I left Randy. Paul had warned me to keep my phone off, because we both believed Randy was shifty enough to track me, but I was beginning to feel claustrophobic in our… his former loft. I needed to get out and do something, but I knew this would have to do for the time being.

"I'm at Paul's old place," I said simply as I heard her gasp in surprise on the other end of the line. Kate had constantly encouraged me to try and reach out to Paul once I had moved to Chicago, even if it was just to get closure, but I never listened. It was no wonder she was surprised to hear I was staying at his former place. "He doesn't live here anymore, but he still owns the place. Anyways, I left Randy and this was the only place I could go on such short notice."

"Seriously?

"Yeah, seriously."

"Well shit… it's about time you left him," Kate replied and I could practically hear her smile on the other end of the phone. "I didn't think you'd go running back to Paul, but anyone is better than Randy. Fuck Steph, the Unabomber is better than Randy."

"I know… you told me for the longest time that he wasn't good for me and I didn't listened," I conceded with a sigh. "It was just… hard to up and leave, ya know?"

"Better late than never and all that, right?" she replied, trying to sound optimistic and like the Kate I've always known. "What are you going to do now? I mean…you have all your stuff still here, right?"

"Well, that's kinda why I am calling," I said, my voice filled with obvious hesitance. "Can you and Garrett go get most of my stuff from the apartment? Whatever you can manage to grab, alright?"

"You know I'll do anything for ya, hon," she answered as I heard movement and then the slamming of a drawer. "I still have the key to your place, so I'll call G and have him meet me there. What are the most important things to grab?"

I ran a list off of important documents and clothes that I wanted, along with some jewelry I had left over from my paternal grandmother. I didn't want anything that my mother or Randy had given me, which was half of my clothes and shoes, all the superficial shit. Just as I thought I had told Kate everything, I suddenly remembered two other things I needed. "There's a box under my bed that I need. It's a black shoebox filled with letters. Make sure you get that first along with the box in the bottom of the closet labeled 'Vince'. Those are the important ones."

Kate reassured me that she would get everything I wanted and promised to call when she got back to her apartment with my things. I was sure she would only need a few boxes to get my stuff, but I still felt bad for putting her out. I was also nervous as hell about it all. I had no idea if Randy had flown home or if he had someone else going to the apartment while we were in Connecticut. I just had to hope that my fears were unfounded. Kate was going way beyond the call of duty to help me and I would forever be indebted to her and Garrett for their assistance.

With Kate off the phone, I began to feel the anxiety creep up on me again. I hated being alone, which was probably another reason I had associated myself with Randy years earlier. He was the first guy to give me any sort of attention, even though it was unwanted at first. I just wanted to feel something again, even if it was self-loathing. However now, I just wanted to feel normal.

I wanted my life back.

I wanted Paul back.

I had to show some sort of patience though. I hated it.

It had been just over twenty-four hours since I had seen Paul last. He had showed up late the night before with an assortment of groceries. It was a quick in and out job, with him virtually dropping everything off before bolting out the door. I sent a quick text to thank him and then turned off the phone before I put all the food away. When I woke up in the morning, I hadn't even had a text back from him.

I understood his reluctance, he was scared shitless of getting hurt again, but it seemed like every time we made a move forward, we also took two steps back. I had my work cut out for me.

The next morning, when I turned my phone on to check on things, I had a voicemail from Kate letting me know that everything went smoothly at the apartment. She got everything I wanted and then some, and she had bundled it up to ship via UPS, she just needed the address. I texted it to her quickly and then called Paul to let him know that things were progressing back in Boston.

"Paul Levesque," he said, his voice short, when he answered the phone.

"Stephanie McMahon," I mocked as I hoped I managed to get a smile on his seemingly dour face. "I'll make this quick, but I wanted to let you know Kate got my stuff from the apartment back in Chicago."

"Well, that's good news."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just been a rough week and I'm not sleeping all that well," he admitted softly. He sounded downright depressed, so I did the only thing I could think of. I just wanted to make him smile.

"Why don't you come over for dinner tonight?"

"Steph, I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Why not? You need to eat, right?"

"Of course I do," he replied with a small laugh before he grew silent. "Listen, I'm sorta swamped here at work. Can I think about it?"

"Yeah… I guess so." I was growing frustrated by his reluctance, but I was also trying to have patience. If I was being honest, I just wanted to go back to my life five years ago. I wanted everything back, like yesterday, so it was hard to take it when he pushed me off like that.

"Have you been keeping your phone off?" he questioned, his voice tight with anxiety.

"With the exception of this call and a few to Kate, yeah. I've been trying as much as I can."

"Good… keep it up." Paul paused for a moment and I instantly grew nervous. "Apparently Randy has been calling my mom quiet often since he believes, and rightfully so, that Gordon got your stuff from the hotel. She promised not to give Randy any details on Gordon or me, but I have a feeling he's going to get more devious soon." A chill ran through my spine since I knew all too well that Randy was relentless in his pursuits of everything. He never gave up on something he wanted, which was why he pursued me as much as he did. He wanted to own Linda's daughter and Marcus's stepdaughter. He wanted that connection with the partners of the firm and I knew now that he clearly wanted me for his own enjoyment. I was a pawn in his game and I wasn't having it anymore.

However, I would be stupid to think Randy would give up so quickly.

"Do me another favor, okay?"

"Anything," I replied simply as I heard a small sigh from Paul. I knew I was being a bit pushy about it all, but I had lost a lot and had to show him that I was in this completely, whatever it was we were.

"Call your bank. See if they can start the process rolling to move your accounts to a local branch. They will probably need you to go in and sign something, or maybe even they could email you a document to facilitate the change. You need to start having access to those funds."

"Sure," I answered as Paul said a quick goodbye, promising to let me know soon about dinner. When we hung up, I got the details on my bank and called them up to get my accounts transferred. They were surprisingly awesome about everything and in just a few days I could go to the local branch and sign the documents opening the new accounts. I left the joint account that Randy and I had intact. After all, it wasn't like I contributed much to it anyways.

It felt good to get something else away from the grasp of Randy. If only I knew that he was out of my life completely, I would probably sleep like a baby.

I checked my phone for messages two hours later and I discovered that Paul had left a text message agreeing to come over for dinner. My heart clenched in my chest in excitement, because I was happy to get the chance to see him again. However, my happiness was short-lived when I realized that I had virtually nothing to serve him for dinner.

I powered up the old laptop Paul had brought over last time he was here and quickly checked a few websites for dinner ideas, eventually deciding on making some fajitas with homemade guacamole. It was simple enough to make, and I knew Paul would love it.

Once I had my shopping list in place, I scrawled down a message on a scrap of paper letting Paul know where I had gone. He didn't say what time he was coming over, but I refused to take any chances. I had already been burned once by my propensity to not leave messages. Plus, he would probably think Randy had something to do with my disappearance and I didn't want to give him any cause to worry.

It was only five short blocks to the grocery store nearest to Paul, but the day was surprisingly warm, so I enjoyed being out in the fresh air. I took my time and even stopped at Bronwyn Park, which was across the street from the store. Since the weather was unseasonably warm, there were several other people enjoying the weather like me. There was even a mother with her two children, and when one stopped near me, staring at me with a wide smile on her face, before running to the swings, I couldn't help but think of the child Paul and I would never meet.

Time quickly slipped away from me because before I realized it, the bench compressed slightly as someone sat down beside me. I turned slowly to my left to see Paul there with a concerned look on his face.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked softly, his eyes still full of worry and I felt remorse for making him feel that way.

"I just… I came to get some groceries so we could have a nice dinner and I lost track of time."

"It's alright."

"No, it's not, Paul." My eyes darted towards a little girl who was about five years old, playing happily with her older brother on the jungle gym. "I've been sitting here for… however long… watching the neighborhood kids and all I can think about is what could have been."

"Stephanie, there's no reason to dwell…" Paul began, but I was quick to interrupt him.

"Our child would have been close to four years old by now," I said simply as Paul's hand reached out and grasped mine, giving it a slight squeeze.

"You don't need to talk about this, Steph."

"Sometimes all I want to do is talk about it. You have no idea how often I think about what happened and what could have been," I admitted reluctantly. "I wonder if we would have had a boy or a girl. Would they have looked like you or me? Would we have had a second one by now…" My body froze and tears began to fall as I looked down at the ground, my heart beating out of my chest. "I can't have one naturally; at least that's what the doctors' say. I just…I never thought about being a mom until I discovered I was pregnant and now the possibility has been taken away from me. It's so fucking unfair. I think I would have been a good mom."

"I'm sure you would have been a wonderful mother, Steph."

My body sagged as I felt Paul wrap his arm around my shoulder and pull me to his side. I breathed him in for a moment but I was pulled from my thoughts as I heard the yell of the little girl call for her mom and watched her dash off with a huge smile on her face. "Why couldn't we have had that? Could you imagine if we had a little girl?" I asked.

"Steph, you have had years to come to terms with all of this and I've barely had a week," Paul explained simply. "It's hard to think about it all still. I mean… yeah, I wish you had the baby and things had worked out for us. Fuck, I wish your dad was still here and you had never met Randy, but we can't erase the past. I do think it makes us stronger, if it's any consolation." Paul squeezed me gently and I practically melted into his side as the little girl and her brother left with their mother, both of them giggling happily.

"Do you realize I have nothing?" I asked as Paul looked down at me, his eye brows knit together in confusion. "I'm serious. I have no job, no prospects for a job, no apartment, no car, no family… nothing." I let out a huge sigh before the tears began to fall again and I found myself gasping for air. "This isn't how I saw my life going. When we dated I had so many dreams and goals. I'd get my degree and then do the graduate program and become a teacher. You'd finish your degree and become a world-renowned artist. We'd travel the world for your exhibits and make love in exotic locations while I wrote when I felt inspired. We'd have a child by now. We'd have been married by now..."

"Fuck, this is so fucking hard," Paul exclaimed roughly. He pulled his hands back from me and began running them through his hair, pulling fiercely as I watched his emotions get the best of him. "I would have loved that life with you… back then."

Yeah, that killed me dead. Those two simple words literally tore my heart in two and Paul knew it hurt because as I withdrew from him, he tried to pull me back into his side. I was growing my frustrated by the moment though.

"Listen, I didn't expect you to have the same dreams I had, but you don't need to placate me and tell me you wanted them too when you didn't," I shouted, as a couple walking their dog nearby paused to make sure we were fine. I waved them off as I turned back to Paul. "You should also stop giving me mixed signals now. You suggested therapy to help get us to reconcile with our past, but when I suggest dinner, you freeze up and have to think about it. Either you want to try again or you don't. I really want to be patient, but I can't handle the whiplash you are giving me."

"This isn't easy for me, Steph."

"I never said it was."

"It's just… I need time to think about all of this. I've still got to process what happened with your dad and the baby, and also Randy. I can't just jump head first into this because I want you still. I can't be ruled by my emotions anymore," Paul declared roughly. However, I couldn't get past the fact that he did want me still. There was hope, even if it looked bleak sometimes. "I want to move forward but we need to go see a professional and work though everything together. I don't want to look back in ten years and regret the decisions I've made."

"I get it. You don't want to be like me, right?"

"Do you regret the decisions you've made?"

"Some of them I regret every day," I answered sincerely, thinking of my stupidity at not leaving a note or charging my cell phone years earlier, and deciding to be with Randy. However, a small smile graced my face as I thought of when I first agreed to sit for Paul as his model. "There are things I could never regret… ever, because I was loved and happy because of those decisions."

Paul gave me a small smile before wrapping his hand around mine and moving closer to me. "We've got an appointment in two days to meet Dr. Gerandy; he's a psychiatrist I've been referred to. The reason I didn't want to come to dinner tonight was because I wanted to have our appointment scheduled first, and his office only called to confirm just after lunch."

"Oh…"

"Yeah…" he replied simply as he gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "Also… regardless of what you may think, you do have something."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah… you have me."


	23. Chapter 23

**SPOV**

**November 2011**

When I walked into the small coffee shop, I could feel the pressure on my chest like a weight. Regardless of what she said, I knew Leah wanted more than I was willing to give her. From the first day I met her at her gallery, I felt a connection with her, but it wasn't in a romantic sense. If anything, it felt like we were kindred spirits of some sort. She understood me – my hesitance, my heartbreak and my art – and it was because of this I agreed to meet with her.

I ordered my coffee and found a small table near the front window, wanting to make sure she saw me the moment she arrived. As I waited, I scanned through the messages on my phone and another popped up, this time instead of it being from Steph, it was from my mother.

_Paul, I haven't heard back from you about Thanksgiving. Are you coming?_

I cringed because I knew how much my mother loved the holidays and gathering our family together to celebrate, but I also knew my Aunt Claire would be there with her husband. If they were there, it was possible Randy would be there too. Lynn and I had both discussed declining the invitation, but then we decided against it. She was our mom, if anyone shouldn't be attending, it should be Randy, not us. However, until my mother knew the entire story she would put up a fight.

_Only if Randy doesn't attend._

I knew it was childish, but I already had mixed feelings about everything as it was. I didn't really want to leave Stephanie alone for the holidays, but I couldn't exactly take her to dinner with my family who weren't aware of our past, could I?

Things had been tough for me over the past few days, especially after the ruined dinner Steph and I were to share. I had gone to the loft, fully expecting to find her attempting to burn something in the kitchen, but instead I came across her note. She should have been back at the loft already, so of course my mind began running into overdrive and I decided to trace her path to the grocery store, hoping to find her along the way.

What initially began as a quick walk turned into an all out run when my thoughts got the worst of me. I stopped and asked a few people on the street if they had seen anyone who looked like her, but I got nowhere. It wasn't until I was coming out of the grocery store that I saw her perched on a bench in the park. My heart was crushed as I listened to her tell me how old our child would have been and how much she wondered what our life would have been like if things had been different. I didn't blame Stephanie for the miscarriage, I really didn't, but I also needed the both of us to stop dwelling on the past. We had to move forward.

Needless to say Steph didn't cook dinner that night. We walked back to the loft, our bodies close, yet not touching. I ordered in some pizza and we sat in the middle of the living room floor and simply talked to each other. Stephanie was quick to admit that she hated being isolated from everyone and everything because of my need to keep her safe. She knew first hand how vindictive and calculating Randy could be, so I couldn't understand why she would risk herself.

By the end of the night, we still hadn't come to any major conclusions. Stephanie would remain at the loft for however long she wanted, and she could make changes as she saw fit. She also asked for more time on the phone, and I granted that, but I asked her not to keep it on too long so that Randy couldn't track her. As for her need for freedom and a job, we decided to take it one day at a time. When I left, I felt guilty in the pit of my stomach for leaving her alone, but I couldn't be her protector 24/7. She was safe in the loft, I knew it.

"Looks like you are thinking hard there, Levesque," Leah said as she walked up to the table with a small smile on her face. Her eyes flittered down to my coffee and she motioned with her hand towards the counter. "You need to stop thinking so much and I'll go get my coffee and be right back."

"Sure," I replied as the anxiety came crashing back and I gave her a small smile before she walked away. I was determined to make Leah see that we weren't suited for each other, regardless of the efforts of both her mother and her, before I left to head back to work.

It was only a few minutes later when Leah sat down beside me, tucking her coat over the back of her chair and smiling at me with ease. "So... what has you so tied up in knots these days?"

"Oh you know... work and stuff," I deflected as Leah looked at me with her eyes quirked in concentration.

"Try again. I'm not buying it."

"It's just... all so complicated and convoluted that I wouldn't even know where to start," I answered bluntly as I took a sip of my coffee and let out a sigh. Leah challenged me with her eyes and I suddenly just opened up and told her every single thing about Steph and I. From the modeling, to her disappearance, to my rehab and then to finding out she was engaged to my cousin. Leah nodded softly and took in all the information I gave her, but she never judged me, which was probably why I liked her so much. She just got me.

"So right now, this former girlfriend..."

"Stephanie..."

"Right, Stephanie... she's living at your old loft, hiding out from your psychopathic cousin who is also her ex-fiancé, while you two decide what the hell to do about everything, right?"

"Yeah, basically." Leah had actually summed it up pretty well. "My mother wants me to go to Thanksgiving dinner, but she doesn't know that I have a history with Steph. All she knows is that she was engaged to my cousin. Thanks to Lynn, my parents also don't know I was in rehab after the initial incident happened. Things just spiraled out of control and it seemed to be for the best to keep it all from them."

"I think you understated how fucked up your life is, Paul," Leah explained with a small laugh as she reached across the table and grabbed my hand in hers. "I can also completely understand why the heck you don't want to date me."

"It's not that you aren't great..."

"Oh, I know I'm great, Paul," she said with another laugh. "I'm just not meant for you. Do you believe in true love?"

"I used to," I said sheepishly as I thought back to my early days with Steph. One memory in particular, of us at Olympic Sculpture Park early on in our relationship, stood out to me. She was so curious about my art and really wanted to know everything that she could; it was one of the reasons I fell in love with her.

"Do you believe that maybe there is only one person out there made just for you?" Leah questioned, pulling me from my memories.

"Not really," I replied, my voice full of hesitance. I finished my coffee as Leah eyed me suspiciously.

"I'm gonna be brutally honest with you cause we are friends, right?" I nodded as Leah cracked a smile. "You love that girl, and if I am right, you will probably love her more than you will anyone else. She was your first love, but you never really got over her because you couldn't. She holds such a major spot in your heart, you never gave anyone the chance to try and love you. I get that you were hurt, but now that you know everything that happened, have your feelings really changed? The big question now is... can you see yourself being with someone other than Stephanie?"

I grimaced at Leah and watched as she polished off her coffee and then glanced at her watch. "I need to get to the gallery; we're getting some new works delivered today." I had to admit, I was a little curious about the art she was receiving, but I knew if I asked, we'd end up talking for another hour. "Listen, if you need to talk about everything, just call me. I'm not bitter about how things have gone between us, and I really think you could use a friend, someone to talk to about all this. Just... don't forget that people are willing to help you."

As Leah stood, I followed suit and gave her a gentle hug and thanked her for... everything. "I'm really sorry about... you know."

"Paul, you need to follow your heart. If we can't be together in a romantic sense, I'd love to be your friend. I just think you know what you want, but you are scared to have it. Sometimes you need to seize the moment." I nodded softly and hugged her again, surprised by how understanding she was being. "Oh... by the way, you should keep an eye on things at the museum. They are doing an exhibit early next year on Gauguin. Let me know if you want to see it and maybe we can go as friends."

I promised to keep her posted and we parted ways, with her heading back to the gallery and me going to the office. However, as I sat there for the rest of the afternoon, staring off into space at my desk, I knew that it was pointless to get any work done. I felt an overwhelming urge to paint.

Less than an hour later I found myself ringing the bell for the loft. I tried to call Steph, but she had followed my instructions and had her phone off. When it seemed like Steph wasn't going to answer, I dug through the glove compartment of my car and pulled out my old set of keys. I really didn't feel right infringing on her space, but I desperately felt the urge to paint something and all my supplies were there. I had no choice.

When I finally unlocked the door and walked in, I was surprised as hell to see Stephanie lying on the couch, fast asleep, and dressed only in the old silk robe we used to use for our modeling sessions. I couldn't help but freeze and recall the first time I had seen her in the small slip of fabric.

_I pretended to busy myself by setting up my materials, for the third time, as I waited for Steph to emerge from behind the screen. It wasn't the most ideal situation for undressing, but I figured it would do fine for the short period I expected to paint her. When she finally stepped out, I struggled to keep myself in check. She looked simply stunning, even more beautiful than I expected, with the dark colors and floral pattern against her alabaster skin._

_I watched as her eyes darted around, taking in the unknown scene around her and she seemed focused on me until her eye caught the settee and she gave me a small smile._

"_Steph, can you get on the settee for me. I need to check the light." She nodded and nervously moved to sit down. Her knees were pressed close together as I moved around her, pretending to adjust one of my standing lamps, as I simply tried to soak in her very presence. I gripped the lamp firmly; my entire body lit with excitement and nerves. When we had first been assigned this project, I had been hesitant, but now... with Steph as my subject, I was vibrating with energy I didn't know was possible._

_I moved in front of her and kneeled down beside her, my hands resting on her upper thighs as I fought the urge to spread her open and feast on her. I needed to stay focused on my work if I had any plans of graduating the class._

_"So, for today we're gonna take it slow...work up to the full nude," I explained, trying to soothe her._

_"Whatever you need, you're the boss."_

_"Let's not think about it like that, okay? As far as I am concerned, you're Steph and I'm Paul and you are posing for me. No boss employee relationship going on here."_

"Paul?" I was yanked from my thoughts as I heard Steph say my name softly. When I turned though, she was still fast asleep. I moved closer to her, careful to remain as quiet as possible, since sleep was probably hard to come by for Steph. Once I was near her, I could see her hair was still a bit damp, most likely from having a shower before she had a nap. I was about to turn away and head into the room that held all my supplies when Steph jerked to the side and I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Stephanie was naked under the robe.

Fuck.

Her legs had adjusted in such a way that I could see her sex and her hand had moved to reveal part of her tempting breasts. It was the worst possible form of torture and I had to get away. I stepped into the other room and closed the door slightly, before I peeled off my coat and began to organize some supplies in preparation. I pulled out a canvas from the closet and set it up on my easel and then grabbed a few paints before setting them out on my palette.

Once everything was set up, I sat down on my stool and stared at the canvas with uncertainty. Though I had the desire to paint, I had no idea what my subject would be. The scene in the living room with Steph earlier didn't help matters because that was suddenly all I could think of. It didn't help that just as I raised my brown paint covered brush to the canvas, I heard a weird and very unexpected moan coming from the living room.

I shouldn't have moved. I should have stayed on my old wooden stool and stared dumbly at my canvas, but no. I got up and made my way over to the door. The moan turned into a different noise and I moved closer to Steph, worried that she was having a nightmare. I was dead wrong. Stephanie was moaning because she was pleasing herself... in her sleep.

Double Fuck.

I was mesmerized as the robe laid open and her hand was buried between her legs. Her dream must have been something fantastic and erotic to make her react like that. I crushed my hand over my mouth as she called out my name and my entire body tensed, including my cock. It reacted just like I expected, growing hard with each passing second of her tempting display. I wanted to wake her and have my way with her, to show her that regardless of my hesitance, she would always be the sexiest woman in the world to me. However, I couldn't do it.

I stepped away, my mind filled with the images of her masturbating, and went back into the room making sure to shut the door behind me. I was focused and determined and before I knew it, I had painted a portrait of Stephanie until my hand cramped.

When I heard Steph banging around in the kitchen, I decided to make my presence known. I stepped tentatively from the room, shutting the door behind me, and immediately felt bad when she screamed and jumped.

"Jesus, Paul. Are you trying to kill me?" she asked, her hand pressed to her chest as I noticed she was still wearing that tiny robe. I could ask her the very same question dressed like that.

"I'm sorry," I replied as I noticed Steph adjust the robe to pull it down so it covered her as much as possible. "It's just... I came... in earlier, you were asleep, so..."

"So?"

"Fuck," I cursed as I tugged at the hair at the nape of my neck in frustration. "I came in earlier and you were fast asleep on the couch. I had tried to call and then rang the buzzer, but I pulled my keys from my car and came in. I'm really sorry, I didn't want to interrupt you, but I wanted to paint again."

"You what?" Stephanie asked, her voice rose in surprise. "You came here to paint?"

"All of my supplies are here," I replied awkwardly.

"It's okay, Paul... really. This is your place; you can come and go as you please. The painting just surprised me, in a good way. Can I see it?"

"Oh... not yet," I answered as I glanced to the door and made sure it was closed. "It's a work in progress." Steph nodded her head softly and then excused herself, no doubt to get dressed or something. After she left, I sat down on the couch and was completely overwhelmed by her scent. It was everywhere. I lay down and stared at the ceiling, waiting for her to come back. When she did, her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she looked adorable. Suddenly I was struck with something Leah had told me earlier in the day. '_You love that girl, and if I am right, you will probably love her more than you will anyone else. She was your first love, but you never really got over her because you couldn't. The big question now is... can you see yourself being with someone other than Stephanie?'_

"So... tomorrow we meet with that doctor you hooked us up with, right?" Stephanie asked, pulling me from my mind.

"Yeah, Dr. Gerandy. We have an appointment at 11am. That still works for you, right?"

"Paul, I don't know if you noticed, but I don't really do much of anything these days," Stephanie replied with a small smile. I nodded in response and then things felt to get even more awkward between us. The silence grew and when I glanced at the clock and saw it was just after ten at night, I decided to make myself scarce. I never should have stayed as long as I did, nor should I have invaded her privacy the way I did.

As Stephanie busied herself in the kitchen, I went and covered up my painting with one of the drop cloths I had lying around. I wouldn't really be upset if she saw it, but I think it would be best if I waited till it was done for her to see it. I sat on the stool and stared at the covered canvas while Leah's words continued to run through my head as I contemplated the answers to her questions.

_Yes, I had loved her._

_I still loved her; it just wasn't the same love as before, was it?_

_I hadn't loved anyone else in the past few years. Not even close._

_I never got over her._

_I didn't want to get over her._

"Fuck," I cursed, and turned to see Steph standing in the doorway.

"Everything okay?"

"Not really," I lied as I stood up and grabbed my coat, slipping it on easily.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Isn't that what tomorrow is for?" I replied with a wink as Stephanie nodded her head softly and pushed her back against the door frame, making room for me to move around her.

Just as I went to slip past her, I found my willpower slipping and I threw caution to the wind. My hand slipped up her hair, gripping the base of her ponytail gently before I pressed my lips firmly against hers. Her lips were tight at first, uncertain of what was happening, but as my hands moved from her hair, to caress her rosy cheeks, she fell into the kiss easily.

Steph's hands gripped at the collar of my coat as she pulled me closer to her, desperate for more. My mind was awash with images from our past and our present, including her writhing on the couch earlier in the night, which simply made my cock ache. I knew that deep down in my gut I wanted this... fuck, I wanted this so much, but I had to be patient.

Stephanie moaned loudly and I pulled away, our lips swollen and our faces both confused.

"I'll pick you up just after ten-thirty tomorrow morning, alright?" I asked as I watched Stephanie lift her fingers to her lips and nod her head.

* * *

**Please read.**

To answer some of your questions recently…

No, this is not a completed fic. Yes I will finish it, I have about 6-7 chapters left.

I will update Trust next, and no that is not completed either. But, when and how fast the next chapter will depend on the reviews I get for this.

I have just been going through some things and didn't feel up to updating in a long time.

Don't Hurt Me: This fanfic is mostly fluff and as some of you may know I am not very fond of it. I will finish it for those of you who really enjoy, because you are the reason I have kept it up.

Something I would like to say | Those of you who pm me randomly asking me to update please, please make sure you review before you pm me. I appreciate reviews much more than pms, and it's one of my biggest pet peeves. I do love pms but just please ask me to update in a review first because I am much more likely to sit down and post a new chapter if I get reviews rather than a pm.

Well, I've talked enough. If there was anything else you were wondering just drop it in a review and I'll address it in another chapter or send you a pm.

**Please R&R it means the world to me, and it's the reason I update. **


	24. Chapter 24

**SPOV**

**November 2011**

As soon as the door closed behind Paul, I sank down the floor and let my head fall back against the wall. What on earth just happened? Paul had kissed me. _He had kissed me _and now I was even more confused. Paul kept talking about being patient and how he wasn't sure what he wanted, but he went and kissed me. Surely this meant something good, right? To be honest, I had no fucking idea.

All I could think about was that kiss. It was like I ceased to function properly all of a sudden. One minute I had been napping on the couch and having the most erotic dream ever and then suddenly Paul was kissing me and running from the apartment like he couldn't get away from me fast enough. His disappearing act was enough to give me whiplash.

Rather than stay on the floor, confused and hungry, I decided to get up and make myself a sandwich before watching a bit of TV. After all, there wasn't much I could do at the loft until my stuff from Kate arrived, and I was literally counting down the minutes. After I ate, I headed towards the bedroom and passed Paul's art room.

I pushed the door open slightly and couldn't help but wonder what he had painted under that sheet. Also, what in the hell made him come here for the sole purpose of painting? I wasn't against him visiting, in fact, I preferred him nearby, but it was out of character for him these days. Not so much for the former Paul I knew who, when he needed to paint, would simply do it. For a brief second, I wondered if maybe I was seeing a glimpse into my old Paul Levesque, the one I had fallen head over heels for, but I decided not to push it. He was just getting back into the groove with his painting and I refused to deny him.

I also refused to look under the sheet even though it was killing me. I wanted to see what had inspired him.

The next morning around ten, I was busy getting ready for our visit to Dr. Gerandy, when the buzzer went off for the loft. It was still too early for Paul to arrive, so I immediately grew suspicious. However, when I glanced out the window, I was buoyed to see a big brown UPS truck. I quickly buzzed the delivery man in and almost hugged him when I saw his dolly loaded with boxes.

"Stephanie McMahon?" he asked with a smile as I nodded my head excitedly. "Where would you like me to put these?"

"Can you simply put them on the elevator and I will get them into the apartment?"

"Sure thing ma'am. I have another pile out in the truck, so give me a few minutes."

I was practically bouncing with excitement when I signed his electronic gadget and looked at the elevator stocked with boxes, 10 in total. With the UPS delivery man gone, I quickly took the elevator up to the loft and began to unload the boxes into the living room. I was elbows deep into a box filled with books when Paul showed up half an hour later.

"Are you ready to go... wait, what's all this?" he asked, curious as he closed the door behind him and came forward, eyeing up my boxes.

"My boxes from Kate arrived," I said giddily as I pulled two more books out of a box, revealing my shoe box at the bottom of it. Of course it wasn't a standard shoe box, it was the one filled with my letters to Paul that I never sent. "I'm gonna call her quickly and then we can go, alright?"

Paul nodded easily as I stepped from the living room and turned on my cell phone, quickly dialing her number. When she answered, it was like I could breathe a huge sigh of relief. "It's Steph."

"Hey sweetie, what's going on? Did you get your stuff yet?"

"Yeah, it just arrived," I replied with a grin. "Thank you so much for doing all of this, Kate. It really means the world to me that you were able to help me out."

"Oh don't go getting all sappy on me, girl," Kate laughed easily. "I'm just glad things are moving forward for you. Especially since..."

"Since what?" I asked as I sat down on the edge of the bed and heard a few random noises from the living room. Knowing Paul he was probably putting some of my books away on the shelves. "What's going on?"

"Randy called." A shiver immediately went up my spine and my entire body tensed.

"When?"

"Yesterday, right after your mother called me."

"What? My mother called you?" I shouted angrily as Paul suddenly darted into the room looking concerned. I waved him off and listened intently as Kate explained to me exactly what had been going on since I had last spoken with her.

"Well, your mother called me yesterday morning in a fucking fit because she hadn't heard from you in weeks, whatever. She rambled on about you and Randy breaking up, which she didn't believe, and then begged me to tell her where you were, which I didn't do, obviously."

"Thanks," I muttered in frustration, not with Kate, but with my meddling mother.

"I told her that if you wanted her to know where you were, then you would call her and she hung up. Not five minutes later Randy called. I didn't even know the asshole had my number, but I figured he got it from your mother or something. Anyways, he threatened me and insinuated that he would do anything to find you. I calmly told him he was barking up the wrong tree and lied that I hadn't talked to you in over a week. I don't think he bought it, but I also don't think he's going to give up."

"Great." I felt defeated. It looked like I had no other choice but to keep hiding, which was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to be able to get my life back on track and not be forced to look over my shoulder all the time, wondering about Randy and his intentions. "Listen, Paul and I were just about to run out to an appointment..."

"Oh really?" Kate interrupted, her voice practically singing, as I waved off Paul's concerns and he sat down beside me, offering me his hand. Now, not only was I completely confused about the status of our relationship, friendship, whatever we were, I had to also stress about Randy. Well, stress more than usual.

"Yeah, I'll tell you about it later, ok?"

"Sure thing, hon. Don't let this shit get you down, alright?" I gave Kate a quick farewell and turned off my phone as Paul stood up from the bed and pulled me with him.

"You gonna tell me what's wrong? You went from bouncing off the walls excited to suicidal in the span of five minutes."

"My mother and Randy called Kate looking for me," I admitted reluctantly as I grabbed my coat and slipped it on, eager to get out of the loft.

"You know I won't let him get anywhere near you, right?" Paul questioned as he gripped my shoulders and stopped me in my tracks. I really wanted to believe him, because in the week that I had been living at the loft, I had been safe. However, I also knew how relentless Randy was. He wouldn't give up quickly. "In related news, Randy has been harassing my mother too. Thankfully, she knows nothing, but he told her he's thinking of filing a missing persons report against you. If it does happen, we'll talk to the police directly, but until then, let's just not worry about it alright?"

"Okay," I answered as he opened the door and ushered me into the elevator. I was still tense, but I was hopeful that today's meeting would be a step in the right direction for us.

Dr. Gerandy was an honest man in his early 60's and I immediately felt at ease with him. He joked around at first that he tried to retire, only to have his wife divorce him and take him for all his money, which resulted in him being back in the office, but he seemed really down to earth. The fact that he made me feel comfortable was a huge relief since I was worried I would hate every second of sitting down with him.

The thing I liked most about him was that he cut straight to the point. When he asked us why Paul and I were there to see him, we both were silent and that didn't sit well with him.

"Let's get one thing straight," he said as he stared at Paul and I as we both sat tensely on his leather couch. "If neither of you talks, you are wasting my time and your money. So, how about we start over and Paul you can answer first, followed by Steph." We both nodded and Dr. Gerandy started again. "So, what brings you to my office, today?"

"Well... Steph and I used to be in a relationship and she'd like to rekindle it, but I am having issues getting past what happened to us." Dr. Gerandy turned to look at me while scribbling notes on the pad of paper in front of him.

"Umm... Paul and I were very young and impetuous in our past and I wasn't used to being in a relationship. I made a lot of mistakes which affected both of us negatively and now we both have trust issues. Not including the issues we have with Randy."

"Who is Randy?"

"That would be my cousin, her abusive ex-fiancé," Paul replied coolly.

"Does he know you are together now?"

"We're not really together, exactly," I answered tentatively, my hands clasped together tightly.

"This is beginning to sound very much like Melrose Place, so why don't we start from the beginning?"

For the rest of the hour, Paul and I took turns outlining our entire history to Dr. Gerandy. The good, the bad and the ugly. We left no stone unturned and discussed Paul's tumultuous relationship with Randy, the fact that he kept the truth about me and his time in rehab from his parents. We also quickly discussed my father's death, my mother's abandonment and the loss of our child. I had to admit, I wasn't overly surprised when Gerandy admitted he wanted to see Paul and I separately next week, rather than together.

"I'd really like to help the both of you to reunite, because from what you've told me, the love you two shared was very strong and honest," Gerandy began as he closed his notebook and surveyed us curiously. "However, before we can even try to tackle your relationship, I think we need to work on the both of you as individuals. Paul, it's obvious you were hurt by Stephanie's departure and recent revelations to you regarding her past. However, your relationship with your parents and Randy also need to be discussed. And Steph... where do I start with you? Perhaps your guilt, lack of self-confidence or your abusive relationship with Randy? All of these items need to be addressed before we can even think of treating you as a couple, if that is even what you want to be."

Paul and I were both in complete agreement with Dr. Gerandy and made arrangements for back to back appointments early next week. "Before you go, I have a quick challenge for you," Dr. Gerandy said as he handed us business cards with our appointment times written on the back. "I want you to make a list of things that you love about the other person. Do not share it with each other. Bring it in for your individual appointment and we will go from there, alright?"

"Okay," I replied hesitantly as we shook hands and Paul ushered me out of his office. I had a small smile on my face because I felt like we were finally doing something to heal, but Paul looked put out. "What's going on in your head?"

"Nothing," Paul hedged.

"Liar," I replied with a playful nudge to his shoulder as we waited for the elevator.

"It's just... I thought we would be going through this together, not individually."

I reached down and gripped Paul's hand in mine, pulling him into the elevator as the door opened. Thankfully we were alone. "Listen, Dr. Gerandy comes highly recommended and I think he's right... we need to face our own demons before we can work on our relationship. Hell, we're not even sure that's what we want, but we need to come to terms with everything. So... you'll do it for me?"

"I'll try."

"That's all I am asking."

Rather than go right back to the loft after our session, Paul invited me to lunch. Even though it was a Thursday afternoon, he wasn't expected back in the office until 2, so I jumped at the chance to spend more time with him. We ended up at a small, out of the way, Mexican joint that he loved and it actually felt normal and somewhat relaxed sitting there discussing random topics.

When his mother called, I immediately tensed.

"Hi mom," he answered, trying to act casual. "I'm out at lunch, is there something I can help you with?" Paul was silent for a few minutes, nodding his head and taking in whatever it was his mother was saying. Every now and then he would roll his eyes or simply agree with what she said. It was actually kind of cute, until he said something I completely wasn't expecting. "Ok fine. I'll be at Thanksgiving dinner, but do you think you and dad can come to my old loft tonight?"

"What are you doing?" I whisper yelled as I waved my hands in front of his face. I lived at the loft and he was inviting his parents there? This was madness. We _just_ had our first counseling session and neither of us were prepared. Yes, I had met his parents in the past, but it was in a completely different capacity. What in the hell would they think now? God, they probably would think I was some gold-digger working her way through their family.

When I finally seemed to calm my breathing, Paul was off the phone and looking at me like I was crazy, which I probably was. "Don't freak out."

"Don't freak out? How can you ask me not to freak out? You just invited your parents to the loft tonight. You are going to completely blindside them with all of our drama and then your father is going to hate me and your mother will probably think I'm some sort of whore who sleeps around with all the men in your family. It's... we... it will be a disaster, Paul."

"Have a little faith, will you? Anyways, I'd rather get this all out in the open, especially with Randy being so ruthless. My mother is a good person to have on our team." Paul seemed so confident about everything; I couldn't help but smile at him in return. I wasn't as sure as he was though.

In fact, the entire time we drove back to the loft, I felt dread settle in the pit of my stomach. I was certain that the evening was going to be a complete and utter disaster. "You need to stop worrying about it all," Paul urged as he escorted me into the apartment. "I promise I can handle my mother and things won't be nearly as bad as you are expecting them to be."

"Yes, they will be," a familiar smug voice replied as I did a double-take. How in the hell had he found me?


	25. Chapter 25

**PPOV**

**November 2011**

"Isn't this cozy?" Randy asked as he rose from the couch and looked between Steph and me with utter contempt in his eyes. His mouth upturned into a devious grin as I felt Steph grow anxious beside me. What in the fuck was going on here? "Did you miss me, Stephanie?"

"Don't answer him," I spat, anger boiling up inside of me as I stared at my cousin. I couldn't fathom how this complete asshole had the same genes as me. It was unimaginable. We were so drastically different, it was like night and day. I also began to worry about how the hell he had figured out where the loft was and how he had gotten in. Then again, Lynn had been able to break into his hotel room easy enough, hadn't he?

"How to did you find her?" I asked, anxiously.

"Paul, you are stupider than you look," Randy yelled. "I have money and it can get you lots of wonderful things, like access to a private investigator or a five minute phone call with the receptionist at your work who informed me that you had been in and out of the office for weeks. Needless to say, I got suspicious and put two and two together. It was easy once I realized you were in the picture."

"Get the fuck out of here."

"And miss all the fun? Hardly," Randy sneered as I felt Steph tug on my coat, her entire body vibrating in fear.

I stepped in front of her, shielding her from his wrath as he simply laughed and threw himself back on the couch with a loud thump. The very same couch that Stephanie was pleasing herself on, as I shamefully watched, the day before.

"Randy, just go," I implored, trying to ease Steph's anxiety. "There's no reason to let things get worse than they already are. Just go on your way and let her get her own life back."

"Not likely, Paul. I'm not leaving without _my_ fiancée and the answer to why the hell she is with you right now? You barely know each other."

"I'm not yours anymore, or didn't you notice the ring I left in your hotel room?" Steph shouted angrily. "And, do you want answers? The reason I moved to Chicago was because of Paul. I was his first. We were in a relationship together long before I was yours… do you get that?"

"When?" Randy asked, confused by Steph's ranting. She was clearly getting worked up and I wasn't sure if it was due to courage or fear. Either way, she was managed to hold her own against him.

"We used to live here together over five years ago. It was the best, most beautiful and wonderful time of my life," Stephanie countered. "Not a single moment I had with you could compare to what I had with Paul."

"You're lying." Randy finally looked like he might crack; his voice wavered as he realized that I had Stephanie long before he did, and that she cared for me infinitely more than she would ever care for him. It actually made my heart soar as I heard her confess to him just how much she cared for me.

"No, she's not," I answered for Steph, as I felt buoyed by her declarations. "I loved her and she was my muse, my everything, and we had… there was a situation and we spilt up. She moved to Chicago and I stopped painting. She's not yours, Randy. Not now… not ever," I spat. Steph stayed by my side, close enough that I could feel her body heat against me. Randy, however, didn't back down like we hoped he would.

"I think this charade has gone on long enough, don't you think, Stephanie? Coming up with convoluted lies to try and make me leave? This is pathetic."

"They're not lies," I countered, tempted to go and retrieve my latest work from the spare room to show him just how much she meant to me.

"Stephanie, just stop. Stop," Randy yelled forcefully, causing Stephanie to cower slightly in fear. "We are going to head home to Chicago and you are going to stop with all of this nonsense."

"G-g-g... go away," she stammered as she clung to me like a lifeline. My mind was moving a mile a minute, trying to comprehend everything that had gone down to get us to this point. How the fuck did he break into the building? When will he get it through his thick skull that no one fucking wants him here? "I'm not leaving. I am going to stay here in Boston… without you."

"Well that's not going to happen, Stephanie. _We_ are going to go away, my dear. Now that I have found you, we're heading back to Chicago on the first available flight."

"Over my dead body," I shouted as I moved to take a step towards Randy, and Steph held me back.

"It can be arranged, Paul. I don't take too kindly to people taking what is mine," he replied through clenched teeth as I stared him down, trying to come across as menacing. I wasn't sure it was working though since he didn't back down at all. "I don't know what stupid lies my cousin has filled your head with Stephanie, but it's going to stop right now. He clearly didn't want you enough the first time you apparently dated, otherwise he would have moved heaven and earth to find you, like I have. I will support you, love you and worship you in ways he can only dream of, so stop with all these silly fucking fantasies. The move to Seattle has been cancelled thanks to your little stunt and Marcus and the other partners have called me back to the Chicago office immediately. I'm _not_ going home alone."

"Yes, you are," Steph stated, trying to be firm as I looked down at her with an encouraging smile. "I'm not your property, Randy, and I'm staying here in Boston. You don't have a say in my life anymore. You don't have anything to hold over me."

"Oh don't I?" Randy stood up from his spot on the couch, which I mentally reminded myself to burn after today, and began to close in the space between us. Steph stayed glued to me as we paced around each other awkwardly, neither one of us moving closer, but both of us trying to appear intimidating. "Just because you had your fucking brother in law break into the hotel and steal the disc doesn't mean there isn't another one out there. Did you really think I wouldn't make a copy of it?"

Steph gasped at my side. I hadn't been naïve enough to think that Randy only had one copy of the video, but I also knew that it didn't really matter anymore. Nothing would change how I felt about Steph, or that I knew she had been manipulated by Randy. She hadn't been strong enough then to refuse him, but she certainly would be now. I clenched her hand tightly in mind and lifted it up to my lips, giving it a small kiss as Randy looked on in surprise.

"I don't care about the video. Show it to my mother if you want. Hell, Marcus would probably get off on it," Steph exclaimed, her voice illustrating her fury perfectly. She was determined and fierce, and all kinds of hot if I was being honest. "It doesn't matter to me what you do with it. I don't care."

"You can't really be serious, Stephanie."

"What Steph chooses to do with her life is none of your business anymore, Randy. Why can't you just let her go on and let her live the life she wants?" I questioned as my hands balled up into fists at my sides. I was ready to fight for her, something I didn't really do when she disappeared years earlier and I now regretted.

"Poor clueless Paul," Randy declared as he took a dramatic step towards us and we stepped back, nervous of his intentions. "You just don't get it. Stephanie McMahon is mine. She always has been and always will be, regardless of the lies you've come up with to try and dissuade me otherwise. She'll do anything I want her to, you know?"

"Fuck you," Steph yelled as Randy threw back his head and cackled like a madman. What in the hell was his problem?

"You have had no problem fucking me or anyone else for that matter, Stephanie. Is that what you want from him? Do you want Paul to fuck you? If you need to get that out of your system so you can come home with me, let's get on it. We have a flight to catch," Randy said callously as he watched Steph like he was stalking his prey. "You know Paul, she really is fantastic in bed, very docile and innocent. She'll do anything I tell her to do, or anyone for that matter."

"I already know of Steph's past and it doesn't fucking matter, so shut your damn mouth," I countered angrily.

"There's something Stephanie doesn't like to do... shut her mouth. Do you know how many cocks she has sucked since she started dating me, Paul? How many men she has let violate her over and over again? How many women she has been with? All because I told her to." Randy was a vile motherfucker, throwing this shit in Steph's face again as she struggled to maintain control. I could hear her breathing falter behind me, and I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was freaking out. She was paranoid that I would let him affect me, but he was too late. She had already told me everything, and the garbage he was spewing didn't faze me. The only thing it made me do was want to beat the shit out of him.

"You don't deserve her."

"And you do?" Randy laughed again as he neared us again. "You don't know this girl. You only know the shit she has told you, and all of it is lies. Her mother will even confirm how Stephanie is a pathological liar. I've been helping her, Paul. All you are doing is making things worse. Hell, if what you say is true, you are probably the cause of all her emotional problems. You drove her to my arms, and I'm fixing what you've fucked up."

"I did nothing," I stated firmly, trying not to let my anger get the best of me. "Steph left me and lost our child. I found out a few days ago what happened."

"You're right, she left you... and she's about to do it again when she comes home with me. This isn't up for negotiation; now go grab your shit. We have a flight to catch."

"Shut up," Steph shouted as she stepped from behind me with her hands covering her ears. "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up." Randy grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him and Steph struggled to pull away. He laughed like a maniac as I pulled her free and pushed her onto the couch as I stalked towards Randy with my fists at the ready. As Randy lunged towards me, my fist connected with his jaw and a loud crack could be heard in the open apartment. He deserved the hit and so much more.

"Don't fucking go near her," I shouted as Randy reached up to grasp his jaw but the smirk on his face remained in place, which only managed to enrage me further. "She's not property that you can just go tossing around like garbage. Your mother should have raised you better. I can't begin to understand how the fuck we are related."

"Fuck you, Paul," Randy grinned as I stood as a shield between him and Stephanie once more. "But I should thank you, because now I can press charges against you for assault and kidnapping, seeing as you are obviously keeping Stephanie here against her will."

"No," Steph screamed from behind me as she jumped up from the couch and moved to stand in front of me, but I held her back. I didn't trust my cousin for one second to be close to her. "Paul did no such thing and if you try to press charges against him, I will tell everyone what you've made me do over the past few years. I will claim assault against you and…"

"I will bring up harassment and breaking and entering charges too," I added as I continued to stare down Randy, hoping to break him.

"Marcus will fire you the moment you have any charges pressed against you," Steph said smugly. "I don't think the firm will appreciate you dragging them through the mud, especially since I have nothing to lose and I will have no problem detailing every little thing you had me do in the name of 'love'."

"You wouldn't dare." For the first time, Randy actually sounded a bit concerned as he stared us down and neither of us seemed to care about his half-assed threats.

For the first time, Steph actually looked smug and confident as she spoke to Randy. It was almost like I was seeing flashes of the Stephanie I had fallen in love with

"Your name would be everywhere, Stephanie. Do you really want that?"

"I'll do almost anything to get you out of my life," Steph declared vehemently as I kept my hand wrapped tightly around hers. "If it means revealing all of the secrets, I'd do it. I just want you gone, and you can take my mother, and her selfish attempts at reconciling with me, with you."

Steph stepped away from me and grabbed her cell phone, quickly turning it on and waving it in Randy's direction. "If you don't get the fuck out of here in the next minute, I'm calling the police and I will begin ruining your life the way you've ruined mine," she said fiercely as Randy's mouth turned into a devious frown and he glared between us with pure hatred.

"This is far from over."

"Oh, I disagree," I added with a grin. "If you so much as try to email, phone or see either of us again, we won't hesitate to contact the police. Even if they don't press charges, your name will still be dragged through the mud and the firm will fire you. There's no way you want that, right cousin? After all, your position at the firm means more than anything else in the world to you, even Steph."

Randy moved forward and lunged at me again with his fist clenched, but I reached him first and my fist collided harshly with his stomach as he doubled over. "Get out, _now_. We never want to see you again"

"You two deserve each other," Randy spat angrily as he moved slowly towards the elevator, clutching his stomach as I noticed his cheek was a bit red from where I hit him earlier. God, I hope it got a huge bruise, or worse.

As the elevator door closed, Randy banged angrily on the grate and slowly descended to the main floor. I stepped to the window and watched with baited breath for him to get into his car and leave. When he finally pulled away, I breathed a huge sigh of relief and looked over to the couch where Stephanie was sitting with her head buried in her hands, her breathing erratic.

"He's gone. There's nothing to worry about," I said softly as I sat beside her and she titled to her left, resting her head on my shoulder.

"It's not that easy, Paul," Steph admitted as tears began to fall down her cheeks and I didn't hesitate to reach up and push them away. After all, she over the past few years she had had a rough go of it. She deserved time to be emotional about everything, especially now that she was completely separated from Randal. "Everything he said was true and it kills me that I let my life turn into that... that I let him lead me into such a disappointing and destructive life. I just... I want people to look past what I did and see who I am. Does that even make any sense?"

Yeah, I knew exactly how she was feeling. I had made shitty mistakes in my past but everyone continued to fixate on how my art career went downhill, especially my mother, who repeatedly reminded me that I was letting my talent go to waste. As I sat there, my fingers wet with her tears, I knew that, even though she didn't say it, she wanted me to see beyond her bad decisions and I did.

I was proud of her for how she stood up against Randy, regardless of how scared she was. I was happy that she was beginning to find her own way in the world, and I hoped that she would go back and finish her degree. But more than anything, I was ecstatic that she was with me.

I turned slightly, my fingers reaching up to brush her lips as I contemplated what I was going to do for about a nano-second. I couldn't help myself. I leaned in and kissed her softly, her breath hitching the moment I pulled away. "What was that for?"

"I just think you needed to know that regardless of everything, I see you."

* * *

Have a new story I'm gonna publish soon, by the way...

Please review, it keeps me inspired. :)


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